Closer to Love
by awwhshucks
Summary: Florence Conner owns Queens. Educated Catch and street-smart Quirk are only two of the people assisting her, but when the trio meets up with unfamiliar newsboys after the water incident and are threatened with borough invasions, they're thrown into the strike and end up turning heads and demanding change.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**Early May**

**Queens, New York**

"Oi! Flor!" A voice called from behind me. I turned and saw a figure standing behind me in the entrance to the roof.

"Whaddya want Charlie? Can't you see I'm a little bit preoccupied here?" I removed my hand from where it propped up my head and took my foot off of the edge of the building. I was observing Queens from my very own perch on the top of the world. Or at least, my top of the world, that being the Queens very own Lodging House.

"We all's goin' ta Bruce's fa dinna, you's comin'? We's leavin' soon," he stepped out from the staircase and stood leaning on the wall with his hands behind his back.

"Yeah, I'm coming, I'll be down in a second, tell the other boys, but don't make 'em wait. I take that back, tell Cig to wait up, I don't think he'll mind," I turned my head back around to the soon setting sun, putting my hands on my hips and straightening my back.

"All right, Flor," he turned and left, shutting the door soundly behind him.

I heard voices coming quickly from below and a few from the fire escape that was on the side of the building. A few men and women were walking down the sidewalk as well, oblivious that anyone was watching them. I turned from the ledge and kicked a stray rock that was on the paved part of the roof.

I was walking to the doorway when I heard a catcall from behind me. I turned to see a figure standing on the neighboring building's roof. I didn't know exactly what to make of it, or if I knew exactly whom it was, but I did know that a family of boys lived there. I'd have to see what our sights new of the place.

I rolled my eyes and continued in the way that I was talking. I wasn't careful to pick up my skirt as I walked down the steps. The heavy clink of my boots that I didn't try to hide was audible on the metal walkway of the staircase. Not a lot of people came up to the roof because of how I pretty much claimed the place.

"You gots ta get da best spot if ya gonna be da best leada, Flor. It's your time ta shine," the last leader of Queens patted me on my back on the first of January. It was only a few months ago, but he had already moved out of the boarding house, leaving me to rule this borough with a cabinet of sorts until it was my own time to pass on the title. The roof was the place for those 'distinguished with the title of Queens,' or whatever the hell Cadet told me his last day. I wondered where he is now. Hasn't been anything in the papes 'bout him being brutally murdered or some unknown body being found in the middle of the street.

Pushing it out of my mind, I pushed open the door at the end of the staircase with my foot and hopped down the two steps that lead up to the door. Cig was sitting outside of the washroom on a broken chair leaning back on the wall. He was starting to light up when he saw, or rather heard me connecting with the floor. I closed the door behind me and fixed the small hook to keep it closed.

"Flor," he said, pushing the cigarette behind his ear, "Why da hell are ya wearin' a skirt? Where'd'ya pants go?"

"Is there something wrong with me wantin' to wear a skirt, Cig? You gotta problem with it?" I crossed my arms, "I think I look perfectly fine. Hell, we're going to dinner. Is it a sin for a girl to want to look nice in public?"

"Nah, it ain't dat, it's just, wull…" he shook his head and pulled his cap off with one hand, "Wull, why the hell are ya wearin' a skirt?"

"Because I want to. Do you want me to change? It's not even a full skirt, Jesus, relax will ya?"

"Its jus' been a while, Flor, das all. Ya look nice," He said, standing, and giving me a once over, "C'mere, Kid, dey's all waiting for us," I shook my head at him and pulled out my bowler from where I had it behind my back and slipped it over my head, being careful to smooth it over the top of my head. I didn't want it to give me hat hair when we got to Bruce's, so it wasn't completely on, just lightly.

"Whaddya doin' wearing dat thing?" Cig wouldn't stop pelting me, but I knew it was all in good fun, "Hell, ya look like a man wit dat on!" He turned from where he was standing beside me and flicked my bowler up even farther than what it was already. I laughed as we reached the front desk where our house super was. We signed out, as it was mandatory, and then made our way out the front door. Thankfully, it's still light outside, seeing as it's only May, and crossed the street to make our way to Bruce's and join up with the rest of the crew.

Cig pulled out his cigarette again and lit up, taking a few short puffs and then one long drag. He notched it between his pointer and middle finger on his left hand and stuck the rest of his fingertips into his pocket.

"Whaddya think of all a'dis, Flor? These past couple'a months, I mean. Ain't it been crazy?" He took another drag from his cigarette and replaced his hands. He kept his head facing in front of him and moved in and out of the masses of people going to and from work.

I received a few strange looks from young women dressed in the 'proper attire.' I shrugged them off before answering, "I'd agree with that. I find it hard to believe that I'm here, in the greatest city on earth, spending time with a bunch of crazies like you. Nonetheless, I couldn't ask to be anywhere else. I love my newsies."

He nodded slightly as we made our way across a small alleyway. We walked a good majority of the way in silence. Puffs of smoke coming from Cig were the only thing that could settle for interaction, that being it wasn't. He motioned his hand toward me as we stopped at the edge of one of the blocks. Horses and people were still busily moving around. I grabbed his hand and looked both directions before running across the street, weaving in and out of people and carriages bustling past. There were a few shouts of anger from behind us, but we just continued moving.

Cig let out a sigh as we kept walking. My boys and girls were able to see us through the windows that lined the entire front wall of Bruce's. There were tables lined up on the window too, it served as a bar of sorts, but we weren't allowed in there at night. Cig kept a hold of my hand as he opened the front door for me. I pulled him in as he followed me through, being greeted by the heavy smell of cigarette smoke and loud laughter.

My troop was situated right in the center of the restaurant with all of the small tables pulled together into a long one. Two spots at the head of the table still remained empty. One seat for Cig and one seat for me. I could see Catch and Quirk, the two girls of the borough, and also my best friend and half of my personal cabinet, were already seated beside my seat. They were holding a conversation with a few of the other boys, from the looks of it; it was Squint and the Prof from what I could see.

A few greetings, all of them being both loud and accompanied with slaps on my back, were thrown at me as we made our way down the table. I waved to an very tired looking Bruce that was working at the second nonalcoholic bar in the joint, who was serving slices of pie to a couple. He waved back and held up a finger mouthing, 'Gimmie a minute,' to me. Cig released my hand as he took his seat next to Catch. He smacked her lightly on the back and mushed his cigarette into the tray in front of her.

"Hey Catch, quit hoggin' da potatas' and gimme ya plate. I'm starvin' 'ere," he reached across her and grabbed her plate, which resulted in her only grabbing Quirk's own. Quirk just sighed, knowing that there was no use in fighting it. I laughed lightly and took my own seat at the head of the table.

"So what did I miss Quirk? Anything important?" I asked her. She was sitting to my right with no plate of food in front of her. I heard Bruce walking up behind me and he put his hand on my shoulder. I quickly asked him for two specials, one for me and one for Quirk.

"Nope, nothin', jus' da normal talk 'ere. Mostly jus' talkin' 'bout new spots ta sell at tomorra'. No ones got inna fight yet. Dat's a foist," she shook her head and put her forearm on the table where her forehead soon followed.

I laughed lightly at her, "Tired there, Quirk?"

She nodded, her forehead creased and uncreased as she shook her head up and down, agreeing with my question.

About half an hour of small talk passed when I heard Bruce coming up behind me in some way. His footsteps were always sure and right, and I'd never seen or heard of him dropping or spilling a single order. I turned to see him carrying both Quirk and my orders. Roast beef and mashed potatoes with a mixed vegetable of some kind. I tapped Quirk on the shoulder.

"Quirk, your food is here," she snapped up.

"You's'a tryin' ta tell me dat Catch 'ere," she motioned to Catch with a fork she was holding somehow, "is givin' me mah potatas' back?"

I shook my head at her and Catch looked up from her plate. Her mouth was full and a little dribble of potatoes was on her chin. I pointed with my finger to my own chin when she undoubtedly got the point and rapidly wiped at her own, with her spoon still in her hand, with the back of her hand acting as her napkin.

"No, ya dipshit. Would Catch really do that? I just ordered ya a new plate. 'Ere. You want a pop?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. She nodded eagerly and quickly gathered her knife in her opposite hand. All traces of her being tired vanished. She had food coming.

Bruce popped our plates in front of us and I smiled graciously, handing him twelve cents, "Thanks, Brucey. Could ya spot us two pops, please?"

"Sure thing, Kid, comin' right up," he retreated back the way he came from and quickly reached under the counter to bring up two glasses. They were still cold and had condensation on the outside of them when he got them to us.

Both of us took big gulps and set our glasses on the table at the same time.

I ate like I had never had food in my entire life before. Let me tell you, that roast beef was hella good. And mashed potatoes being one of my favorite foods just added to the greatness of the day.

"Flor!" I heard someone shout from the other end of the table. I craned my neck over my food and a hunched over Catch. I think she was asleep…

I finally gave up in trying to see who it was from my sitting position so I yelled back, "Who da hell is it?" I dug back into my food and got some strange looks from the people not in our group. They aren't used to seeing and hearing 'ladies' swear in public… or really at all.

"Bull!" I heard him yell back.

I put my fork and knife back down on my plate, "What da hell do ya want Bull? Can't'cha see I'm tryin' ta eat here?"

"Wull… pardon me, Miss," he said standing, bowing, and tipping his cap. This earned a fit of laughter from our table, "I'se just curious, ya see? We'se all wonderin' on ya opinion on da best sellin' spots?" He sat back down, gaining a few slaps on the back.

I stood up then, "Can't this wait 'til the docks lata? I got food ta eat, ya dumbass," I sat back down, finishing what food I had left on my plate and downing my pop.

Bull shouted back once more, "Yeah, yeah, whateva da hell ya say, Florence."

I heard someone shouting back at him, "Jesus CHRIST! Ya are a goddamn dumbass! Ya know not ta call Flor by 'er full name! 'Da hell's wrong wit cha?" A smack on the back of his head soon followed.

I knew that something was going to come up soon, so I stopped it before it could, "HEY! FELLAS!" I yelled at first, then my impatience gave out and I whistled for them. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to face me, including everyone else in the restaurant, "Get your stinkin' money on the table, and go to the docks. We aren't startin' dis here," I turned to Bruce who was still behind the counter at his post, "Sorry about this all, Bruce. Let me know if not all of 'em pay, I'll take care of it then," I grabbed my hat from where it was hanging on the back of my chair and held it close to my chest, I turned my attention to the other people in the building as my boys were making their way out the door, leaving their money behind, "And I apologize to all of you folks as well. Please accept my apology," I tried my hardest to not use any newsie slang that I'd picked up in the years I spent at the boarding house, eight to be exact.

I nodded once more at Bruce and then pulled Catch and Quirk out the door of the restaurant with me, plopping my bowler on my head once more. They grabbed their own caps from their back pockets of their trousers and piled them onto their head as well.

This trio of ours gained some pretty weird looks as we marched down that cobblestone street. We didn't even bother to walk on the sidewalks, seeing as it was about seven now, the streets were relatively clear, except for the occasional couple or a few kids running around playing.

I stuck my hands into the pockets that I had made in my skirt; they were useful for change because you couldn't exactly carry it all around with you in your hands. I had a small pocket sewn into my bowler as well, but I only kept the picture of my mother in it.

The three of us didn't say much as we walked to the docks. It was going to be a clear night, I could feel it already.

We finally got to the dock that every newsie in Queens goes to. Hell, all newsies knew about it, or at least that's what we like to think. Catch and Quirk took off down the wooden planks as soon as we got to the very edge of it, shouting some see ya's and the like. I always enjoy taking my time getting to the end of the dock. I like to listen to waves lapping at the support beams, even sitting on the very edge with my feet hanging off. Sometimes others will join me, but more often than not, they're too busy jumping off the side into the filthy water or doing whatever the hell else the want to.

I heard shouts coming from the edge of the dock, along with some great peals of laughter and loud splashes. I only heard about two or three before someone came running towards me.

"How ya doin' Mous-" I started to say, rather calmly.

"Ya gotta go fa help. Catch's off the end, she can't swim neither," Mouse rushed out his words, he was out of breath from running so fast, "We're afraid she's gonna get pulled out, so we's ain't jumpin' in," he looked away from my eyes, shaking his head.

"Shit. Fucking SHIT. Alright, you get back down there and watch her, I'll be down. Try and talk to her, keep her calm. Make sure her head stays above the water, and if she even stays down for half a second, you better believe I'm ordering you to jump into that goddamn water and get her the fuck out," he didn't move, "Well what the _fuck _are you waiting for? GO!"

We turned on our heels at the same time, I moved back to the street and the merchant lanes, and he began to take off to the edge of the dock once more.

All of the shops were closed. No one is open at seven at night, but I saw someone walking under the streetlights. He didn't look familiar.

I took off running once more, "HEY! YOU!" He didn't stop walking, "NO, WAIT! YOU THERE! PLEASE! COME HELP ME," He stopped walking and pointed towards himself, "YES YOU DUMBASS, YOU. COME ON, RUN."

He finally got over to me, "You a good swimma, kid?" I asked him.

"Yeah, why?" We kept on running and finally got to the middle of the dock.

"You gotta help my friend, she's off the dock, in the wadda, the other idiots here don't want to jump in to hel-"

He took off. Sprinting would be a better word for it. I picked up my own pace and shouted to the guys, "HEY! YOU ALL! BACK AWAY, CLEAR A SPACE FOR THIS GUY! HE'S GETTIN' CATCH."

I barely had time to finish my sentence when he dove off the dock. Fully clothed except for his cap. They say a newsie's pride is in their cap, and I luckily saw that Catch's own was resting on top of a pole beside the edge.

The boy surfaced and swam to where Catch was treading and flailing slightly, he whispered something into her ear and then began to pull her in. She looked as relaxed as can be. Like nothing ever happened to her. Good reason I guess, the boy now pulling her out of the water was one hell of a catch in her own eyes. He was sopping wet now, but I bet that made him look even more attractive to her. His hair never fully left its curly state and his nose picked up at the very end. He was tan too. As tan as could be without looking… brown…? I guess that was the right word.

The easiest way to describe him would be to say that he was everything that Catch had ever dreamed of.

And then he took his shirt off.

Which made the entire situation just climb in the level of how much Catch enjoys it.

A few people took of the jackets that they were wearing and wrapped them around her as I pulled the mystery boy to the side.

"Alright, now's time for serious shit, who are ya and what're ya doin' here?" I crossed my arms in front of my body as he took a seat on one of the stray barrels. He loosened his boots and dumped the water from both of them, wringing his socks as he was at it.

"Me name's Mush, I'm from 'Hattan, newsie under da one an' only Cowboy. I'se just visitin' mah otha buddy, Spot. Spot Conlon. Leada o'Brooklyn. You knows how he sits at da docks? Just made mah way 'ere den. Den you called me, and now I'm 'ere," he wiped his face and began to put his shoes and socks back on.

"Nice ta meet cha Mush. My name's Florence. But only call me Flor. Leada o'Queens. You jus' saved one of my best friends. Her name's Catch. Newsie wit me an' da others ya see around here," I held my hand out for him to shake.

"You'sa newsie? Since when are 'dere goil newsies? Not dat I have anythin' against ya, it's jus' a new sitchiation, if ya get what I'm sayin'," He shook my outstretched hand, "Welcome, Flor. Welcome to da masses. Hey, uh," he looked back towards Cig comforting a shivering Catch on the wooden planks, I couldn't see how she was still shaking, "Do ya mind if I tell, uh, Jacky-Boy and maybe Spot 'bout dis? Jus' wanna keep the info'mation movin' if ya know what I mean. I mean, if she was pushed in, on poipose, 'dere might be some problems, but I can tell ya now, you got 'Hattan on ya side," he stood up and walked to were Catch was sitting, rubbed her back and gave her a slight hug. The clock chimed eight and he made his way past me again, "I'll tell Jacky-Boy 'bout dis. Spot too. 'Dere might be some runnas or somethin' comin' ya way soon. Might be somethin' 'bout a meetin' at Tibby's or somethin'. Nuttin' big. But hey, I gotta get runnin'. Hafta make it back to 'Hattan before da thugs get out," he took off running again, "See ya soon, Leada!" He tipped his hat and then ran off.

I turned my attention back to Catch, "Alright, someone's gotta carry her back to the boardin' house. Who's it gonna be? Extra ten papes for ya tomorra, courtesy of yours truly," a boy nicknamed Cane volunteered and carried her the way home.

I signed us all in and went to check on her and Quirk in our own private corner of the world.

They were both sleeping like logs.

I determined that to be my own signal and moved out to the washroom to wash my face and brush my teeth before going to bed. Cig and a few others had the same idea. Stressful day for all, I guess.

I finished up there and stripped down into my long johns. Don't gimmie that. It's perfectly okay for a girl to wear long johns. I even keep a camisole and women's underwear on underneath it too, so I don't want to hear it.

The feel of the cool sheets and pillow under my body touching my skin felt heavenly and I allowed myself to drift to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by Disney and used in Newsies, I do, however, own characters I created.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

**Queens, New York**

**The Next Day**

When I woke up the next morning I was more than aware of all that had happened yesterday. Selling all those extra papes early on for some reason, Catch in the water, our new acquaintance in Mush, and Quirk not seeming quite right.

She and Catch had always shared something special. It might have been the fact that they had banded together on the streets before they made it to Brooklyn, or the fact that they've both seen each other at their worst times on the streets.

I could tell Quirk wasn't necessarily okay with everything that happened yesterday. After all, she didn't say anything as we walked home.

Something was up. I wasn't there to catch something, but Mush's cautionary words from last night caught up to me.

If someone did actually throw Catch into the water, and Quirk saw it, she was keeping it from me. I'd have to wait to ask them though, we had papes to sel-

Shit. I looked at the sun coming through the window. It was easily midday by now. The boys didn't get us up. I didn't get the boys up.

I threw the covers off and jumped to my feet, running to the divider and throwing it aside to reveal an empty bunk room. Everything was in order, too. The boys must have actually cleaned up for themselves. And they let us sleep in.

My hand moved to my half up hair. It was tied with an extra rubber band from the papes I had yesterday. I didn't remember putting it up last night, but I guess that I did at some point or another after getting hot. I padded my way through the bunks, trailing my fingers on the cool metal that made up the beds and inspecting the areas as I went. It surprised me that everything was actually in order. I finally turned into the hallway finally and went to the washroom where I used the bathroom and scrubbed my fingers.

I noticed a note that was folded under the mirror with 'Girls' written in a messy script on the front of it. I paused with my toothbrush still in my mouth and mouth paste foaming.

I opened the small note and read it:

Girls,

We let you sleep in this morning, you deserved it. If you get up in time, meet us at the market for lunch.

Cig mentioned that someone may be coming to meet with the three of you today, too, so try and make it.

The Boys

I was surprised at how good the spelling was, not that I really had that much to compare it to. Newsies don't normally write notes, we send runners instead. Notes can be tracked easily, runners, if they're fast enough, can't be. If you happened to be wondering, that's how Catch got her name, she can't be caught. She's our best runner, but we'll have to put Silver on the line for a while so that she can recover. In all truth, the only thing that she's probably going to want is Mush. That wouldn't surprise me.

I put the note back down where I found it and spit my mouth paste out, and I tried to find a clean spot on the communal towel beside the sinks. With no luck, I ended up just using my hand and then wiping it on my long johns.

The sun was shining even brighter than what it was before I left. In fact, it was shining directly on our beds. I roused both Catch and Quirk and told them about the note and what was going on and inquired if they wanted to go to lunch or not.

They both nodded rapidly and seemed to have gained their personalities back. Quirk was jumping around with the prospect of sleeping in and Catch was dragging herself around.

"Ay! Catch, how ya feeling?" I asked, "Happy morning, right? Bright and great day ahead of ya!" I pinched her cheeks and made myself even more annoying than normal.

"Shut the hell up, why don't you, I'm not in the mood," she ran her hands through her hair as she walked out through the divider with Quirk behind her.

Quirk turned to me and gave me two thumbs up with an excited looking face. The two of us always took pride in being able to piss Catch off both easily and normally. It was all in good fun, though. The three of us could all stand each other the same afterwards… that is, after Catch realized we were just playing with her and accepted it, throwing some insults at us, too.

I walked to the two shelves that the three of us share. On the top shelf was all of our good clothing and an personal belongings we might have. Quirk had a reading book and Catch a small mirror. I already had mine in my hat, my mother's picture. I noticed that someone had folded my clothing that I had draped on the edge of my bed last night and put it on my shelf. Everything seemed in place though, nothing was missing.

I grabbed a pair of my grey work trousers, a plain white shirt, and my blue suspenders. I stripped out of my long johns and into another pair with short sleeves and legs, because I felt it would definitely be warm enough outside, and began dressing. All of my clothing was well worn in and bought in a men's clothing store, if I didn't make it myself. In my spare time, I attempted at learning how to sew, you know, if a button popped off right at your chest, you had to know how to fix it or else you'd either be out of a shirt or you had to wear it with an extra low cut, which wouldn't be appropriate. I guess wearing trousers and a button up shirt wouldn't be appropriate either, but it would be worse.

Catch and Quirk returned and walked over to where I was standing to retrieve their own clothing as I was pulling my pants over my long johns.

"I'm feelin' a good pair a'plaid trousas today," Quirk said, holding her favorite pair of pants up, "Feels like itsa gonna be's great day in da neighbahood," she laughed slightly to herself and grabbed her own shirt and vest along with another pair of socks.

"Flor," I felt a small nudge in my side coming from Catch.

"Whaddya want?" I asked back.

"Could you pick out my clothes, I can't wrap my mind around what matches and what doesn't," she leaned her forehead against the shelf in an exasperated way and I patted her on the back while I picked out a white shirt with small blue square patterns on it and dark brown pants with some small stains on them.

"Ya want 'cha belt? Or ya want your suspendas?" I asked her.

"Uhhh… she said, recovering from her position, "I think I'll go for my suspenders today."

I handed her her clothing and she walked away, going to change as well. I grabbed my shirt off of my bed and put it on, buttoning it up and tucking it into my pants before smoothing it out and putting my suspenders on. I felt like I was getting as good as I was gonna get at this point. I grabbed my shoes from under my bed, and realized that I had thankfully left my socks on last night, and pulled my boots on, lacing them up the entire way. I unraveled my trousers from where they were bunched up at the top of them and put them over my boots, smoothing them out as well. I was ready to go, so I looked towards the edge of my bed and saw that my bowler was still resting where it always was. Standing up and taking a few strides, I stretched my arms behind my back, grabbed my hat, and headed to the washroom once more. I still had to pin at least some of my hair up before we went out. Quirk and Catch had to do the same. I finally decided on putting my hair into a side braid- it was what I normally ended up doing. I clipped my long bangs so they were on top of my head and braided my hair down the left side. A few of the shorter pieces fell out but I just left them be. I piled my bowler on and was satisfied with my appearance for the time being.

Quirk and Catch eventually made their way into the washroom. They tried to playfully tip me over from the chair I was waiting in outside of the room. They finally emerged with a bun and side ponytail for Quirk and Catch respectively. I was playing with a small piece of string I found in my pocket then and Quirk gently slapped me on the shoulder to tell me they were ready to go. We began to bound down the stairs, excited we didn't have to walk nearly as far to get to the market than to Bruce's.

I decided to take the lead of the three of us as we walked through the doorway after signing out. We all stretched once we were outside, and Quirk and Catch slapped on their caps, grinning at me. It was a sunny day, and sunny days automatically translated to bright personalities.

The girls were on either side of me as we began running, clutching onto our hats to make sure they didn't blow away in the wind. Quirk had her cane by her side, and whooped every once and a while. As we ran by, I recognized a few familiar shop vendors that were out sweeping their sidewalk or talking to customers outside. A few of my own newsies were peddling their papes on the street too. I waved as I recognized them in passing. I noticed that a lot of them still had a good amount of papes under their arms, but I had confidence that they'd get them all sold fast. That's what Queens was known for. Get up early, sell early, sell fast. That was us.

I heard a few shouts of greeting and turned around, looking to see waves coming from some selling partners that had joined the three of us in running to the market.

Unsurprisingly, the streets were rather filled today, although not quite filled enough to prevent us from running and carrying on. As we reached the actual market though, we had to slow down and actually be cautious of where we stepped and whom we ran into.

Shouts of merchants in the open-air market rang through the air as we got to the center of it. Sweet smells of flowers and food of all kinds was evident. I stuck my hand as far into my pocket as it would go to see what money I had left. I found a single dime in my pocket, that was all I had left from my selling yesterday.

I nudged Catch who, in turn, nudged Quirk, "Hey, uh, I'm gonna go search around, see if I can gripe some food offa someone. I'll meet choo guys back at the tree, aw'ight?" I searched the two girls' faces for signs of declining the idea, and saw none.

They told me to be careful, in which I responded, "This is me we'se talkin' 'bout here. Try an' tell me I can't take care o'myself."

They laughed and agreed with me, weaving their way in the opposite direction of me, Quirk, with her walking stick, was pushing people aside to make a path to walk through.

I began pushing my way through the people once more, stealing glances at the food vendors I saw here and there. I stopped once fully when I saw a familiar face in the baker. He had always sold me small, but sufficient sandwiches at lower prices. I decided to get in line and buy two turkey and cheese sandwiches. One extra in case any of the newsies didn't have enough money to get something to eat. It, after all, was my duty to look after my own.

It took a good five minutes of waiting for me to get to the front of the line, and I finally got my food for four cents, a good half off. I smiled at the baker and made my way back through the crowds, making sure that I kept the food close to my body in order to avoid anyone stealing it.

As I got to the actual park part of the market, I decided to walk through the grass instead of taking the long route on the path. I waved to Cig who was sitting on the ground in front of a park bench with Catch and Quirk and held up one of my wrapped sandwiches. I thought I caught him with a big grin on his face as he stood up, said something to Catch and Quirk, and came to meet me.

"I see's ya brought me a samwich," he said, reaching me and grabbing my extra food, "Ya see, I knew yous would turn out good by sum point." He took one hell of a big bite and began chewing rapidly, eager to fill his stomach. Chances are, this was the first time he ate since last night's potatoes, not an easy feat for a young man like him. I shook my head in a joking but disapproving way and smiled as we met up with the rest of the troop on the park bench.

Catch was sitting with one of her legs up and bent at the knee while the other was down on the ground. Her left arm was wrapped around her left knee, that being the one that was up, holding an apple with knife marks in it. In her other hand was her trademark emerald switchblade. It, of course, wasn't actual emerald, but resembled it quite well. She took another hunk of her apple out with her knife and popped it into her mouth. Quirk was sitting beside her with her snakehead cane between her outstretched legs, slowly twirling it around in a circle and making a small indentation in the ground. I unwrapped some of my sandwich and began to eat. I tried to get it down as quickly as possible.

Quirk was the first to speak, "How's'a'bout we get ova to da tree? See's what's goin' on wit da uddas?" three of us agreed and Catch stuck her blade back in her front pocket and tossed the remaining apple to Quirk. She graciously accepted and had it finished off by the time we got to the tree. She tossed the core to the ground. I thought it must have been the way that Catch repaid her for taking her food last night.

I smiled at the thought of how well they could communicate things in such simple gestures.

Jumping into the tree and bumping into a few boys in the process, I asked, "Heya boys! How's it," I paused, hanging myself upside down by my knees over a tree branch, "hanging?" I finished, waving my hands crazily above my head. Two or three of the boys close enough to hear me the first time burst into hysterics. They were clutching their stomachs from laughing so unbelievably hard and drew the attention of most everyone else. Soon, we were acting like a pack of cackling monkeys in the forest… not that I'd seen cackling monkeys in the forest, but I've read about them.

Soon enough, a face not necessarily familiar to me appeared in front of my upside down body.

It was a boy, tall enough to look at me from eye level on my position on the tree. He had clear, and bright, blue eyes and a sharp jaw. His nose was turned up on the end. He waited for me to calm down.

"You's Flor?" He asked with an accent of the same quality and intensity as Quirk's own. I was surprised to hear another one so heavy.

I crossed my arms over my chest, which must have looked funny, causing a small snort, "Who's askin'?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He raised his eyebrow at me and sneered, "Spot freakin' Conlon at your soivice," he eyed the two boys at his side, "Madame." The one to his left giggled. He had an eyepatch on.

"Back up," I said clearly, and they did. I swung my feet over my head and 'skinned the cat' as we used to call it on the play-yard.

I landed facing away from him so I turned around and put my hands on my hips, readjusting my hat. Bitch mode was activated, "I neva heard of a Spot Conlon dat speaks French!" I exclaimed, faking a surprised face, "Please! Keep speaking in that unfamiliar dialect!" I clasped my hands together and realized my upbringing got the best of me. I noticed his jaw tighten and his hand clench around the cane he had slung through his red suspender loop.

"Dia-what?" I hadn't really seen the third boy on Spot's other side, but as soon as he spoke, I recognized his voice as Mush, the one and only person responsible for Catch being alive.

I kept my gaze on Spot. We were holding a staring contest, or so it would seem, but we were allowed to blink. His gaze hardened as mine did, and his nostrils flared with pursed lips. Not very much of a happy camper at the moment.

"Dialect," I heard Catch speaking from above me and then the rustling of leaves. She thudded to the ground beside me, landing on her feet, "It's the fancy word for language." She said, clarifying for everyone around me. Both of us had endured at least some early forms of education, Catch a few years longer than I, and Quirk, well, Quirk can read and write very well, and she can add and subtract to know how many papes she has to sell in order to profit, but hasn't attended actual school. She's been living on the streets since she was five with her two older brothers. They're newsies in Harlem now.

"So you's recover'd den? Feelin' betta den yestaday I'm assumin'?" Mush was directing his questions to Catch who, I could tell, couldn't be happier.

"Yeah, I am, thanks. One of the boys carried me home, and these two," she motioned towards quirk, who had moved to stand in front of the eyepatch boy, and I, "got me to bed and made me rest. I think I really needed that sleep, it was the best I'd slept in some time," her voice sounded so different in comparison to what Mush's sounded like. Despite our efforts, she won't drop the educated voice of reason unless she's really angry.

Spot and I were still duking it out with our eye battle. Every once and while, I'd check my side vision and notice the other boys carrying on with their previous business, but a few seconds later, I noticed that Mush, Catch, Eyepatch, and Quirk were all gone. They were walking in twos in separate directions, seemingly carrying their own conversations.

As my attention returned to Spot, his gaze was still cold, but he looked above me to the boys still hanging in the branches. He grabbed my arm and pulled a thrashing me to another tree. I had removed my bowler and was now clenching it in my right hand by my side.

"Who the hell do ya think ya are? You can't jus' grab a girl an' pull her along," I crossed my arms and murmured, "Especially not me."

"My ass," he said, copying my movements. He rolled his eyes, "You gots a nickname, kid, or is Flor jus' it?"

I shook my head no, "In Queens, nicknames get approved by the leada. None of my suggested nicknames passed so fa'. And who're'ya callin' kid?"

"I'se see why. Dey musta wanted somethin' like Snark or Fido. 'Course, 'dat ain't've been " 'propriate". But lemme tell ya somethin', kid, keep walkin' 'round like ya own da goddamn place an' ya gonna get cha goddamn ass kick'd real soon."

I rolled my eyes again, turned, and began to walk away. Spot grabbed my forearm and I turned around, glaring at him. He spoke, "Now just you wait a minnit, 'ere. I ain't done wit choo yet," he cleared his throat, and looked semi-uncomfortable. He released his grip from my arm and instead looped his fingers in his suspenders. He took his goddamn time in making himself seem more 'comfortable,' in his situation, or whatever, and then rubbed his hand over his chin and mouth, like his was stroking his stubble, or lack thereof. He was avoiding my eyes as well, "Ya know, kid, ya walk wit dis, kinda… I dunno… a, uh… powa to ya," he cleared his throat again and looked around the two of us, clearly uncomfortable now, "it's like you's not 'fraid o'nuttin'. In fact, it kinda… well… reminds me of my-"

I cut him off, "Ya point is what?" I crossed my arms again, and looked at him expectantly, growing tired of his presence. It was pressing on my boys and my own leadership. Having him here wasn't good. I could feel it.

"My damn point, Fido, is what da hell I'm getting' to. Now shut ya trap," he took a deep breath, "I'm tellin' you dat ya need a street name. Somethin' people's gonna know. Somethin' they's gonna rememba. And word on da street is dat you's this crazy insane amazin' leada, so ya can't deny a street name da one an' only Spot Conlon," he placed his hand on his chest in self-flattery, "You gots ta accept it." I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I hoped I didn't act this arrogant, ever.

"Sa 'ere it is. Based on how long I've known ya, and the personal'ty I've seen from ya, 'long wit my own God given talent of jus' bein' smart as 'ell, I'm callin' ya Strut. There ya have it. Dat's ya new name. And ya don't got one goddamn say in it neither. How's dat make ya feel? Knowin' ya received ya own nickname from the King o' Brooklyn?" He asked, a smug look on his face that was too close for my own comfort.

"Well," I said, pretending to think it over and putting a small smile on my face, "Seeing as it's comin' from you," I looked him over and plastered an exuberant face on for my next response. His face grew hopeful in the sight of mine, thinking that I'd accept him, or some other ridiculous idea, "Like horse shit on a hot day." His expression was turned around, and his mouth opened slighty. He shook his head slightly as he closed his mouth. He was pissed, and I was smirking.

"Perk up, Spotty Boy," I tapped him on the nose, and pushed his shoulder back with one finger, "Ya gotta get used ta dis. Ya said yaself I act like I own da place. You's da one ta give me my own name, huh? Ain't dat right?" I leaned in closer to him, my smirk and mischievous look still on my face, "So you's da King of Brooklyn, huh? Less den I expected." I backed away from him again, "Make ya announcement." I turned from him, my smirk only growing on my face as I went back over to Queens' tree. I reveled in the grand amount of power I felt. Knowing I had just screwed with someone's brain so much and caused them such a mass amount of influx of feelings combined was what I lived for, and the one I had just received. Especially with that someone being Spot Conlon.

I plopped my bowler on my head again, smoothing my braid that was still intact and shining in the sunlight through the trees. I propped myself with one foot on the tree trunk, underneath Cig on the lowest branch.

I heard Cig jump down from his branch to land before me. At that time, I was still reveling in power.

He leaned on the trunk beside me, "You don't know what ya getting' yaself inta. Dat's Spot. Not jus' some udda Newsie you can jus' boss around. He's a leada too. You's _gots _ta be careful," he crossed his arms and looked at me with a caring and severe look.

I turned to face him and returned his look, "No matta what, or who he is, he ain't gonna be able ta dictate me. You should know dat by now. You's known me for eight years, eva since ya found me that night. You remember how I was, right? What I looked like? Everythin' I told ya. You remember how hard I was? I haven't changed since dat day. You know dat Tom, you know dat."

"You're right. I do know dat, Flor. But you know what else? I have ta look afta ya. That's what I promised mysel' ta do dat night. I told mysel' nuttin' bad would happen ta ya. So I gotta tell ya dis," he looked from side to side and looked up the tree, making sure no one was there to listen in, "Jus' don't let 'im in ya pants like everyone else he meets. I've known 'im since he got ta Brooklyn. He knows how ta get in ya head, make ya tink you's da only one he sees. I'm lookin' out for ya when I say don' cross 'im," he slapped me on the shoulder lightly and walked off, rubbing his head and swinging his arms in front of him to meet each other. I saw him turn out of the market and eventually lost sight of him.

My attention turned back to my actions. If Cig wasn't exaggerating, Spot could kick my ass. I glanced over towards him, who was still recovering from my leaving him hanging. He looked dazed and confused, to say the least, and he readjusted his cap and whistled for Mush and the Eyepatch boy I had yet to meet. I saw both boys and the girls with them turn and walk towards Spot reluctantly.

As they reached him, he grew agitated, and both Catch and Quirk stole looks in my direction. I could see their mouths hanging open. They had both met Spot on other occasions before I became leader, before Spot became leader of Brooklyn, and without me.

They finished their discussion and Spot whipped his cane out from his suspender loop. Using it harshly to walk towards where I was standing still. My smug look was now walked off my face, but my eyebrow was raised. I could tell he wanted to just swipe it right off. I loved being able to get a rise of someone that thinks so highly of themselves.

The group of five stopped about two feet in front of me, Spot looking angered, and the other four looking pleased. Catch and Quirk took their position beside me, Catch sliding to the ground and extending one foot out in front of her, gazing up at the three boys there. I noticed Mush moving around to stand beside her, placing his own elbow on my shoulder.

So Mush and Catch like each other.

Should've known this was going to happen.

Spot slung his cane back into his looped suspender and began talking, his voice rather loud, in order to get the attention of everyone in the Queens newsie group, "Hey! Listen up! Good. As you's all know," he shot a glare at me, "I's Spot Conlon, from Brooklyn. Mush 'ere, was da one dat saved ya friend Catch 'ere last nigh'. He brought da sitchiation ta my attentin, and took it upon mysel' ta come an' talk it out wit cha leada 'ere, Flor. Dat's when I'se found she ain't gotta street name, so I gave one ta 'er. Strut. You'se all calls 'er Strut now. I's think it fits 'er," there were murmurs of approval coming from all around the tree and surrounding area, "Dis fella 'ere, is Kid Blink, he and Mush 'ere are from 'Hattan. Jacky Boy had bidness to 'tend ta, so he sent dese guys to 'count fa his presence. Dey'se relayin' all dat's goin' on 'ere when it's all done. Any question afta dis have ta wait, but dey's go ta Strut 'ere. Now, if you's excuse us, we's got some stuff ta discuss," he motioned for us to follow him, and we made our way over to a spot in the grass with the sun beating down on us.

We all sat down in a small circle. Mush and Catch were, to no surprise, sitting next to each other. Quirk sensed me being in a pissy and defensive mood, so she sat beside me, leaving Kid Blink and Spot to sit across from us. The air was tense. Spot wasn't going to beat around the bush here. There was information that needed revealed, and he was going to be the one to figure it out.

He crouched down, but didn't actually sit the entire way down, "Aw'right, so who's talkin' foist?" He looked around the circle of us expectantly, his hands still on the top of his cane that was by his side.

No one responded. I didn't have a really have a reason to; I didn't actually see exactly what happened. I just got some of the story from Mouse.

Quirk cleared her throat, "If you's talkin' 'bout the fact dat Catch ended up in da wadda, den I'm gonna come out an' say it," She looked to Catch for permission to tell what happened, Catch nodded and Quirk continued, "Dag threw 'er in. We's was jus' messin' round and stuff down there, like we's always do, an' den he took it too far. He jus' scoop'd her up and threw 'er in," she was talking very fast, and rushed everything out. Reliving it almost too much for her, "An' we all knows dat Catch ain't a good swimma, and he knew dat too, and he just threw her in wit a smile on his face. I thought he was just jokin' 'round, ya know, just holdin' her ova da wadda like we always do, but it ain't a joke no more. Catch almost died, if it weren't fa Mush ere, she'd be on her way ta sea by now." Quirk finished explaining.

She leaned into me and drew her knees to her chest. Her head took place in the small space that was made. I put my arm around her and began to draw circles on her upper arm. In the years that I had known her, I figured out that doing that relaxed her just as same as twinkles on my arm and waves hitting the docks.

Kid Blink sat with his legs crossed, opposite the two of us, his head looking at his hands that were splitting a piece of grass over and over again. When he couldn't rip that piece any longer, he plucked another and started on it. It hit me and caused me to slap my internal self on the forehead. I looked from Quirk to Blink. They like each other too.

Well, fuck. They're leaving me in the dark here. I stood up from Quirk's side, suddenly semi-angry at them. Of course, they'd always been the prettier and more reserved ones. I have a sailor's mouth and a built body. I'm not near graceful and I'd rather play baseball than anything else.

I paced, my hand on my hips, mulling over everything. Dag. Our new acquaintances. Or really, renewed acquaintances. The punishment Dag has to receive…

"So what the hell are we gonna do about this? Dag screwed his shit up. Nothin good's gonna come of him if he jus' plans on throwin' Catch into the wadda and then refusin' to go in after her," I began talking with my hands and murmuring a few things to myself. Crossing and uncrossing my arms as I began to mull over the possibilities of punishment.

I could kick him out of the boarding house? "Nah…" I murmured to myself.

Ban 'im for sellin'? That'd actually kill him, but I guess he basically did the same to Catch though…

" I got it," I finally said. The rest of the group was looking at me with cautious eyes, "What'd I do? There somethin' wrong wit me? Somethin' on me clothes?" I checked my shirt and the back of my pants. They seemed perfectly fine to me.

I looked each member of the group in the eye. Quirk was still sitting with her knees to her chest, but her head was out of the nook and instead craned back at me

Spot, of all people, spoke up, "Well I dunno 'bout you's all, " he said, motioning with his arm, and then smartly smirking back at me, "But I'm wonderin' bout dat 'maginary friend o'yours you'se just talkin' to. Seemed like one hell of a conversation if ya askin' me."

"It was more than what you'd ever be able to hold," I spat at him without a moment's thought.

He leaped up from where he was standing and aggressively walked over to me. His nose was only a thumbtack's length away from mine.

"You DON'T. Talk to ME. Like THAT." He spat back and walked towards the tree.

I sighed, one less person for me to worry about, "Okay, so back ta what I was gonna say. I think we oughta ban him from anythin' social for a good couple o weeks. That way the bonfire I'se heard 'bout on the streets yestaday won't let him get in da way. Wouldn't want Catch here ta end up in da-" shit. Jesus Christ, there is something wrong with me. I hoped Catch didn't notice my almost slip.

Instead, Kid Blink raised his head, "What bonfire ya talkin' 'bout Flor?" He was still picking at the grass. I could tell he was one of the two people that would still be calling me by my actual name.

"Did I tell you guys 'but it at all?" I asked, directing my question to the girls. They shook their heads no, "Well, there's a bonfire this Sataday in da Battery. I dunno if it's even gonna be an actual bonfire or just a fire in an old trashcan. Whateva it is, it's a gatherin' and I said we'se all go. That'd mean keeping Dag outta da wa-" a whistle sounded from behind me, the same whistle I'd heard on the roof before Bruce's last night. My head snapped around so fast you'd think a six-headed dog was walking down the street in a parade. It was Spot. He whistled again, making my body turn the full way around. He was dragging Dag by the shirt along with him.

"Whaddya doin' wit him?" He asked me coolly.

"Nuttin' social for two weeks. No get togethas, no docks, no nuttin. You can still come 'ere, but you betta believe dat if I see you within ten feet o' any of' us right here, you'll be out of a bed so fast ya cap'll be off ya head and ya suspendas'll be snappin'," I took a step towards him and flicked his cap off just enough to slight him, "Your lunch is ova, get outta here." He wrestled from Spot's grip and ran. Not bothering to say anything to his friends or even collect his extra papes.

I turned my back to Spot and faced the rest of the crew.

Kid Blink and Mush were staring at me with their pie holes gaping, "You got a problem fellas?" I asked them.

Their mouths shut immediately and they stumbled for words, "We's just uh… neva, really, uh… hoid a goil talk dat way before," where one boy broke off, the other picked it right up. Catch and Quirk shook their heads in mock amusement and stood up, brushing off their pants.

"I'm goin' to da docks. I'll see ya guys lata," I needed time to mull things over, and the water was the best place to be.

I had spent more than a few hours wandering the streets of New York before eventually making my way to the docks. I played with a few children in the streets, neglecting the looks I got from people as I went. They were undoubtedly concerned that a grimy looking teenager was playing with their children. Actually, some of them might not have been.

I heard a creaking coming from behind me.

I turned to see a figure walking up behind me, the moon behind him or her casting a dark shadow that covered my body.

I immediately stood up from the edge of the pier and called out to the person, "Hey!" I said, bracing myself for a possible fight, "Who are ya?" My feet took up a fighting stance I'd learned the hard way.

"Get cha panties outta ya ass, it's jus' me," I heard a familiar Brooklyn drawl yell to me. It was Spot Conlon, and he was still in my territory.

"What the hell are ya doin' here Spot? It's been houa's since we stopped talkin' at da park," I said, sitting again and resuming my previous position. I leaned against the pole that was nearest to me and looked out at the water.

He didn't respond for a few minutes, but instead paced the width of the dock, going back and forth at a slow pace. He cracked his joints as he went and then eventually came to a stop at the left side of pier. Right before it turned to the very edge. The wind blew in both pleasant and rancid smells from the water in front of me.

He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and I was left to wonder how the hell he got here and the more important question of why the hell he was here.

As if he could read my mind, he began talking, "We's a lot alike, Flor, do ya know dat?"

I sighed, opening my eyes, and sitting up straight. I rubbed the side of my face that was resting on the pole and felt a few ruts from the wood grain. I looked down and saw a few pebbles that had managed to make their way to the dock here and began throwing them, making plunks in the water.

"That doesn't answer my question, Spot," I replied, not wanting to get into whatever he was thinking.

"No _shit_ it don't, Flor. You're fuckin' brilliant, ya know dat? Brilliant." His voice was sharp and accusing, with heavy sarcasm coated all over.

"And again, you're avoidin' da question," I ran out of pebbles.

"Ya wanna know why, Flor? Do ya really?" His voice was rising, "I'se curious. Curious 'bout you, how ya act, how ya treated Dag earlier. I'se so curious dat I followed ya. Followed ya 'round _allll _day. I'se saw how you's treated dem kids on da street, rumplin' their 'air, how you's talked to da people ya saw on da streets, how ya walk, how ya talk…" he trailed off. He was there the entire time. All seven or so hours of it. He was all there. I turned around and glared at him, of course, doing no good because he was still facing away from me.

"We'se just so much alike, Flor," he hung his head.

"So you chose to take initiative and stalk me for da day? Dat's a _real_ good decision ya made there, Spot. Stalking a person's da best way ta make friends," his nerve was getting to me and I began to get anxious. Something was going to happen between the two of us soon.

"So whaddya gonna do about it den, Flor? Huh? What? Report it ta da police?" He was standing up now, becoming defensive, "Then what are dey gonna do?" I stood up then, beginning to take slow steps towards him, shaking my head, "They're gonna put cha in da Refuge. Jus' like ev'body else dat gets in trouble. Who's gonna believe a teeny," he took a definitive step towards me, emphasizing his words, "Tiny," another, "Goil," and another.

I was steaming.

"Ya know what, Spot? I may not have da police on mah side, but I gots a whole borough. An' unless you'se plannin' on some _goddamn _territory wars between da two of us-"

"Territory wars? What da hell do ya think I'm doin' here? I'm tryin' ta have a civilized convasation wit cha, and ya just jump to dat? Who do ya think I am?" he sounded offended.

I sneered, "Why, you're da great Spot Conlon of Brooklyn. Red suspendas, cane, slingshot, and ladies whereva ya go. Don't pretend ya didn't see dos girls checkin' ya out at da park today. Hell, ya probably got one waitin' for ya at the boardin' house, don't cha?" I pushed him with my pointer fingers, "Huh?" I said, pushing him again, "You do, don't you?"

My pointer finger pressed into his skin. I was hoping that i was causing him pain after thinking he could just get to me. Cig's words kept on repeating in my head, '_Jus' don't let 'im in ya pants like everyone else he meets_…"

I continued my rant, "So you're trying to get me in bed now, aren't ya?" I sneered in his face, "Just want to add another tally on your bed frame, don't ya? Id just be another stop on your goal of screwing every eligible woman in New York. Nothin' big, you're probably thinkin' to yaself, just another goil. Right? I'se heard what people say 'bout you, Spot. How they say you got's a different goil in ya bed every night." My attitude was becoming outrageously severe... or taking on a higher level of what already was, "You jus' think you can follow me around all day long and then magically open up ta me and assume- assume you can sleep with me!" I pushed him backwards, full force. I couldn't tell if he was being sheepish or ashamed, or if he was thoroughly pissed and just not showing his anger.

"Looky here, Spotty Boy, I got more news for ya. Not every goil ya run into's gonna get in bed wit cha," I slapped the area under his chin with my fingers so he would look up at me. His eyes were hard and glassed over, "You ain't the only one in New York with power ta move mountains. Introducing Florence Conner. Nice ta meet ya." I bowed mockingly, making sure to include a huge sweeping motion with my hand and take my hat along with it. I gave him one last shove as I stood up straight and noticed how dangerously close he was to falling off the edge.

"Fancy a swim, Spotty Boy?" I asked, backing away from him to move into my previous position, his gaze never leaving mine.

"At least i know how," he said. His voice was cold, short, unamused, hurt, and had no hint of sarcasm whatsoever. I could hardly believe he would stoop so low as to insult someone completely unrelated.

He saw the change in my face as it went from confusion, to astonishment, to utter, complete, and overwhelming rage. Those five words translated into six steps and words of my own, "Ill take that as a yes." He hardly had time to recognize what i meant until he was moving towards the water... but not until he had grabbed ahold of my own shirt as he swiped the air in front of him and pulled me down with him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by Disney and used in Newsies, I do, however, own characters I created.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

**The Docks, Queens, New York**

**Later that Night**

Time seemed to slow down in some way as we were falling the eight feet, I'd estimated, to the water. Spot was flailing, but he never let go of my shirtfront.

I saw his cap fly off his head right as we fell, as he was trying to maneuver the two of us to enter the water so we wouldn't actually kill ourselves. I didn't think that was a very plausible thought though. Catch had survived, after all, and she didn't really know how to swim. But somehow, and in some way unknown to me, Spot thrust himself forward, bringing me with him, so we would end up in the water straight up and down.

Time resumed its normal pace from there.

As we crashed into the water, I felt as if my bones were going to shatter. Even after being warmed all day, the May sun couldn't fend the water against the cold. My whole body felt instantly grimy as well. Being dragged into this probably polluted water resulted in a more than unpleasant feeling from the pit of my stomach. Undoubtedly the potato soup I had earlier before the docks.

Something hard collided with the area just above my right eyebrow. For a second, I forgot that I was in fact, in the water and couldn't actually breathe, so I panicked and kicked to the surface as fast as I could.

I felt the weight of my clothing slowly dragging me down, my boots especially. That only made me kick harder. As I got closer and closer to the surface, time seemed to slow down once more. I dared to open my eyes under the filthy water to see another figure floating at the top, viciously kicking and splashing around. The moon allowed me to see everything around me. It was a full moon, you see, and it illuminated everything at the surface.

A choking feeling began to take over in my throat. I was running out of air. I couldn't stand to observe everything from below the surface any longer, so I kicked the remainder of the way to the surface, emerging, sputtering and gasping for air.

I wiped the water from my eyes and flipped my soaking hair from where it was sticking to the side of my face. I saw Spot treading water and searching for his cap he lost everywhere. My own hand flew to the top of my head to see that I had, too, lost my hat, and then realized that there was something warm trickling down the side of my face. I swiped above my eyebrow with my finger and looked at it, noticing that I was, indeed, bleeding.

"Spot!" I yelled, "Your fuckin' cane did dis to my head!"

"….hat… where is it… Strut! Find my hat!" He was murmuring, but set in stone on finding his goddamn cap. I kicked upwards, trying to see if I was able to get a higher angle on things. After failing, I resolved to swimming over to the poles of the dock and looking around there.

Spot was still frantically searching when I found it, "Spot!" I yelled to him, "I found it!" He spun around in the water, splashing around without course and swam over to me. I grabbed a hold of the pole that was nearest to me and reached to get his cap to hand it over to him.

He quickly snatched it from my hand and slapped it on his head. The water began to drip from the edges, but a wide smile took over his face.

It was then that I was reminded of why we were in the water anyway, so I slapped him with the back of my hand. Simple as that.

One thing commonly know about me is that I'm loyal as _fuck._ If someone insults my friends, they get hurt. If someone hurts my friends, they get a shovel to the face. If someone lies to me, I can never trust them again. That's just how I am. So Spot bringing Catch into this whole situations was one of the worst things he could do for himself.

His hand flew to his cheek where I could see four red marks quickly forming on his face.

"Why the hell did ya do dat for?" He asked accusingly, rubbing his cheek.

"You _don't _bring people dat aren't involved in situations, inta da situations. _Especially_ not Catch," we paused, just staring at each other for a moment.

"Ya know, ya really must have some nerve to be able ta do this every day of ya life. Doesn't it get tiring to be a bastard to everyone around you?" I shot at him and glared, the fact that we were now in the water didn't change anything, although, I'm not really sure why it would in the first place.

He shook his head and snorted, his hand still rubbing his cheek, "Jesus _Christ._ Ya sure are 'fraid a words, ain't cha?" His hand dropped with a splash.

I was confused. What the hell did I miss?

"Ya hate that even wit dat fiery attitude o' yours, people still hurt cha and da ones ya care 'bout. 'Cuz ya know ya can't stop words from comin' outta da people ya hate most. No matta how much ya soak 'em for it, dos lousy words are always gonna be in da back of ya mind. Eatin' 'way at it," he tapped his temple with a serious face, "but ya do all dat cha can ta try and protect uddas from it. Throw yaself inta da middle a' things, tryin' ta protect everyone. But cha don't think a' yaself, do ya? Ya _don't _care 'bout how uddas see ya even when dey see ya as a heartless _bitch_ dat only tinks a' herself."

I rolled my eyes and clenched my jaw, "So? Last time I checked, I don' give a damn 'bout what uddas tink a' me,"

Spot shook his head at me and blew a quick breath out his nose, "And den ya put up all a' dese frickin' walls so people can't hoit cha. Da only people ya care 'bout are ya own. I don' even know if ya care 'bout ya newsies. Ya look out for 'em, make sure dey're livin' and survivin', but cha don' care 'bout no one else 'sides Catch an' Quoik."

"How can ya say dat, Spot? You'se jus' met me few hours ago. You can't jus' make conclusions 'bout—" I began to fight back.

"You're unfeelin' Strut! Ya _don't _give a damn, and dat's where ya falta," he was yelling at me, fully convinced in his argument, "Ya don' feel nuttin', ya get scared and pissed off, and den ya jus' pretend ya're all right. Ya can't deny it, neither, 'cuz it's all true, an' you know it is. Huh? Ain't it?" He sneered.

The wheels began to turn in my head, I needed a retort and needed it fast. I remembered what he sad told me just minutes before about us being alike.

A small smirk assumed position on my face, "So you's callin' yaself dat too? Right? "Cuz we'se so much alike?"

"Now ya twistin' me woirds, tryin' ta make it look like I'm da one dat's guilty a' dis," he fought back.

"Oh, so now you're hypocritical? Sayin' we'se alike, but den denyin' it?" My eyebrows raised as I realized I had him cornered with his own words.

"Ohhh, witty remark!" He clapped for me, "Ten points ta Florence, because _dat_ was brilliant," I felt something warm drip onto my face, I wiped at it and looked at it on my hand, blood.

I almost forgot about hitting my head on the way in. I quickly dunked my head under the water in an attempt to wash it off, then wiped my eyes and flipped the hair off my forehead, "Ya know Spot, ya really are a son of a bitch."

"As if swearin' makes da sitchiation change, and fa da record, dat makes ya one too. I can twist my woids too, doll," he swam closer to me, "You'se bleedin'," he placed two of his fingers above my eyebrow to try and stifle some of the bleeding.

"For da love of God, someone get dis guy an award, he needs a trophy for his observance," I was talking quietly, not having to yell at him any longer.

"It's thanks ta dat frickin' cane a' yours," I gestured slightly with my hand, "Why do ya even carry dat thing around? I hope ya know it looks stupid as hell, jus' hangin' from ya suspenders…" the breath in my throat caught.

Spot's finger had turned into a hand on the side of my face with his thumb brushing over my cheekbone.

"Spot, what're ya doin'?" I swallowed and blinked a few times, looking directly into his soft eyes.

"Ya don' geddit, do ya, Flor?" I swallowed heavily again, and the water seemed to grow even colder than it was. My cheeks flushed and before I truly recognized what Spot was talking about, he cupped the back of my neck and moved us towards the same destination, meeting in the middle. In the water, everything moved fast.

It went from me insulting Spot, and the struggle of wit between us, to him kissing me.

I didn't know how I felt about this.

His lips were cold and rough on mine, along with his actions, and it wasn't necessarily a pleasant, technically, first kiss, but it was one nonetheless. He was experienced in this though, or so I had heard, so when my eyes finally moved shut, the only thoughts that were going through my mind were of him.

How we were in the water, together.

How we were kissing, together.

How we were—together.

Spot started to move his own lips against mine, after seeing I didn't necessarily struggle against him, when my brain's senses turned back on. As I pushed him away from me, I was left light-headed, but with just enough independence to slap him across the face once more. This time, it was on the opposite side of his face. He was surprised.

"Why'd ya do that, Spot?" I asked, pressing on my lips, feeling like they would be bruised soon.

He laughed once. His lips were a little bit swollen and red from how rough he had kissed me, and his eyes wide, "So I kiss ya, and ya slap me across the face. You're tougher den what I hoid."

"You'se hoid 'bout me, or didja ask 'round? But so what if I am? You can't just do that to me and not expect me to-"

"Fuck it," I heard him say, with his eyes locked on my lips, and then he was moving to kiss me again, this time, when he met me, he lips were gentle, and… well… cushion-ey, kind of. They were warmed from when we had kissed just before, and now, he was holding my face in both of his hands. Drips of water from his wet cap sprinkled onto our faces every so often, sending small shudders from the cold water down my back.

He pressed me against a pole that was behind me with metal rungs to allow people to use it as a ladder. I soon found his hands on the bottoms of my thighs, lifting me up so I could half sit on one of them. I protested against his lips, making small grunts of annoyed, "Mmmmf" s and attempting motions to try and push him off of me. That, however, he wasn't for, because he only smothered himself closer to me.

He smirked against my lips as I began trying to push him off of me, slapping my hands on his chest to try and make him get off. After all, that rung was uncomfortable as hell on my butt.

He only stepped on the lowest rung he could find without breaking our kiss and grabbed a hold of the rung that was behind my head to steady himself. All of his motions were fluid, and I tried as hard as I could to not be the clumsy idiot I normally was.

I heard water dripping from our clothes into the water below us. That and the awkward sounds of kissing that always embarrassed me when I heard others making it. I laughed against Spot's lips as he pressed his body even further into my own. I realized how inappropriate it must look to have a boy pressed in between my legs and kissing. I slapped myself mentally across the head for even thinking that.

After this being the closest I had ever been to a boy either not related or one of my best friends, I didn't really pay attention to the voices that were slowly making their way down the dock. We broke off once to look up and notice that it was another coup- two people holding hands.

Spot and I were _not _a couple, but it looked as if these two were. It took me a second to recognize my very own Quirk with her new acquaintance, Blink. They were talking in hushed tones, as if someone would come along and find them out. Oh the irony in that statement, because it could definitely pass for Spot and I about now. Spot followed the direction of my eyes and then looked back at me as I was still observing Quirk and Blink to see if they would be coming to where we were any time soon. He tilted my head down from my chin, after presumably becoming impatient and was then kissing me again.

This time was different than the others.

He was sweet about it.

He was slow about it.

He was caring, but there was still a tiny tinge of… almost, lust, that Spot showed toward me.

I returned it forcefully and with pride. I felt my butt slip forward off the rung a tiny bit.

"Spot," I said, momentarily breaking away from the kiss, "I'm slipping off."

His head drew away from mine, smirking once more and then smiling. His head cocked sideways, "Well… we'll jus' have ta fix dat, won' we?" He drew his body away from mine and I slipped forward once more, my eyes growing wide, as he threw his abs against me, pushing me the whole way back onto the rung once more and becoming closer than we were before. I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment of his action.

As he kissed me again, it was in that moment when I knew that Spot didn't open up to me because he wanted me in bed.

It was in that moment when I acknowledged the fact that shit was probably going to happen between the two of us for this.

And finally, it was in that moment that I realized what Spot meant when he said we were alike.

Everything was going smoothly until we heard two distinct splashes in the water. We broke away to see that Quirk and Blink had just jumped into the water and were now swimming our way.

"Shit," Spot swore, "C'mon, get up to da top, we gots ta move!"

"I can't very well move if ya smotherin' me, now can I?" I shot him an annoyed look; he was contributing to my slowness as well.

He rolled his eyes at me and hung backwards as much as he dared to without being caught or falling off. I shifted carefully; twisting my arm around to grab ahold of the rung Spot was holding and making sure I had a good grip on the one with my feet. My boots made a loud squeaking sound as I turned on them and I froze. I looked to my left to see if Quirk and Blink had stopped splashing each other long enough to reveal Spot and I making our escape, thankfully, they didn't, so I shifted the rest of the way around and let out a breath of air I didn't realize I was holding.

"Now, I could get used ta dis," Spot said happily, I turned to see him looking smug as he stared at my butt that just so happened to be right in his face.

"You smug ass little bastard, just _wait_ until we get to the top of the dock," I climbed quickly then and started to mock him, mumbling snide remarks under my breath. At last, I reached the final rung and climbed over the edge to a semi-swaying dock. The wind was beginning to pick up.

Spot clambered over the top of the deck and stood up straight, the smug look on his face still evident. I ripped his cap right off of his head and began hitting him with it repeatedly. Every place that I could possibly hit, I did.

"You," smack, "Insolent," smack, "Little," smack, "Smug," smack, "Ass," smack, "Bastard!" I yelled as loud as I dared to.

"Gimmie my cap back, Strut, it ain't yours ta hit people wit," he snatched it back and unfolded it to where it seemed acceptable. It was still wrinkled and would probably stay that way.

"You owe me a bowler, unless you feel like divin' back in and getting' it from da bottom," I crossed my arms and took out my hair from the messed up braid it had become. I wrung it out on the side and then flipped my head over, arranging it into a ponytail.

"You're da one dat pushed me in," Spot argued.

"And you're da one dat brought me with ya. You's owe me a bowler either way," the feeling of not having a hat to cover my hair was something I'd have to get used to until either Spot got me a new one, or I miraculously saved enough money to buy one myself. Someone probably had an extra one at the lodging house either way.

Spot adjusted his cane that was looped through his suspenders and observed me as I sat down on the planks, loosened my boots and took them off, and dumped the water that was swishing around in them, out. As I finished, I stood up once more and twisted my foot into the boots and bent down to lace them up again. I wrung the water out of the end of my shirt and tucked it back in to my pants. Spot took off his cap again and shook his hair out, running a hand through it and trying to dry out his clothing as well.

"You's goin' back ta Brooklyn?" I asked, observing the wet mark I had left on the wood.

"I'se plannin' on it, unless it's-"

"Wednesday," I finished for him. Wednesday is the day that you don't want to be caught wandering the streets late, or sleeping in public. People from the Refuge and a few other adults always come around searching for people to take in, "Yeah, it is," I sighed, "You can stay wit us tonight, sell wit us tomorra. Cover the fee, no problem. As long as ya promise…" I crossed my arms again and looked at him in the eyes, "Ta buy me a frickin' bowler. And soon. Head don't like ta be bare."

He rolled his eyes and nodded reluctantly, "I can make it back ta Brooklyn befo-"

"Now you's just bein' a dumbass. You know you can't make it back. C'mon, we gotta get goin'."

"So whadda we gonna tell da guys when dey ask why I'm 'ere? And why's we wet?" He asked, half-worried.

"We?" I repeated, "You's da one that brought this on yaself. I'm not a part of dis, really. You's'll have to come up with those answers yaself."

Spot licked his lips, "Now jus' you wait a minnit, didn't choo jus' kiss me back?"

My eyebrow raised and I smirked, "Now who's gonna believe dat? Surely not da people I grew up with," I began walking the dock, swinging my arms as in the same way Cig did earlier, clapping my arms together in the front as I went.

I looked up towards the sky. The stars were fully out now and the moon was definitely on it's way up to be in the middle of the sky. I spotted Orion's Belt after only a few seconds of observation, and stopped where I was to twist around and look at the other stars that were behind and to the sides of me. I noticed that Spot hadn't moved from the position that I left him at.

"You comin' or not?" I shouted to him.

"Whos' dat?" I heard another boy's voice call from the water.

Spot whipped around as he remembered Quirk and Blink in the water below us.

"Shit!" He yelled, and started running towards me. I was left frozen until he reached me and grabbed onto my arm, causing me to slightly stumble forward as he was dragging me along and forcing me to run off the dock, "We's got ta go," he said, looking behind us and letting go of my arm. He put his hand on his cane and I picked up my speed, running ahead of him, our shoes stomping loudly on the wood and we tried to escape Blink and Quirk.

I risked one glance back to see that Blink was quickly coming over the side of the dock and pulling Quirk along with him. My eyes lingered just long enough to see them share a kiss. I smiled, as I turned back around, satisfied that Quirk now knows of someone that likes her.

Spot grabbed onto my arm again as we reached the merchant lane and continued running at our fast pace. We hit the sidewalk and slowed down, but kept jogging, after all, we wanted to clear as much space between the docks and us as possible.

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers, although I do know two of you... :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Queens Lodging House, Queens, New York**

**May 14, 1899**

The walk through the center of Queens was an interesting one, to say the very least. More than once Spot and I had to dive behind a few barrels in a dank alley to avoid the coppers that were roaming around the streets. We both commented on how many more there seemed to be tonight. Of course, we might have just been seeing the same ones over and over again.

At last, we were just a few streets over from the lodging house and Spot and I crept out from where we had just been hiding. I observed Spot with a turned head, trying to figure out what he was thinking or feeling. We had shared nothing but foul words towards each other for the few hours that we knew one another, and yet we kissed and everything appeared like we were friends. Or more than friends? I didn't know if I wanted to be more than friends with Spot. I took what Cig said to heart, about Spot being a player that just wanted to bed girls. Cig was like my older brother, and he knew what was best for me. His opinion always ranked high up on the scale, and I wasn't about to brush off the warning he gave to me because Spot had appeared to prove him wrong. That wasn't how it worked.

Spot finally noticed me staring at him and shot his eyes toward me. He seemed less on-edge than what he had been before at the park. He had an ease going about him, like he could laugh and actually not have to worry about being sent to the Refuge or the misbehaving newsies in his borough. His right eyebrow quirked upward and he smirked softly, then shaking his head with a bit of a laugh.

I spoke softly. "Don' know how you're laughin' when ya owe me a twenty five cent bowler and have ta deal with da Queenies all day tomorra."

"Ya act like your borough's da toughest one in da city. Can't wait fa yous ta come ta Brooklyn." Spot shook his head and smiled again before reaching to his head and grabbing his cap with his right hand. His left raked through his still damp hair and then let it fall to his side to rest on the top of his cane.

"Here." He handed me the cap, looking sheepish. He cleared his throat as I stopped on the side of the street. He positioned himself in front of me, still holding the cap. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he wanted to give me his cap. It was his. His newsie cap. His pride. And he wanted to give it to me.

"Don't gimmie dat look, jus' take it. Ya look weird with ya floppy little braid an' no cap." He motioned his cap towards me again, and I still couldn't bring myself to take it.

"Spot... dat's your cap. I can't take it from ya, I'll jus' borrow one 'a Cig's old ones in the mornin'. I can't take your cap from ya."

He looked like he was getting frustrated. "I gave ya your name, I can give ya me cap if I want ta." He noticed I wasn't about to take it willingly from him, so he stepped forward and plopped it onto my head, then adjusted it until he deemed it to look right.

"Spot, I don't wa-" I tried to protest, simultaneously reaching for his cap to give back to him, but he cut me off and stopped my hand short. He carefully held onto my forearm and lowered it back to my side.

"Flor. For once can ya just not argue wit me? Jus' accept it, okay?" He looked at me seriously, almost begging to comply with him.

And I did. I gave into his eyes, and I gave in to his pleading. I let out a short huff of breath and flicked my braid over my shoulder and slipped my suspender straps off of my shoulders for them to lightly hit against my legs. Luckily my trousers could still stay up on their own.

I didn't hear Spot walking behind me for a few steps until I turned around and saw him still standing where I left him. His upper body was fully turned to face me with a pleasant smirk across his face, while his bottom half was still rooted in the position I had left him in only seconds before.

I continued progress down the street as I shouted back to him. "You comin' or what? I mean, I wouldn't be objected ta leavin' ya out there, but that means I'd get all 'a Brooklyn on my back about it. So, get ya ass in gear and catch the hell up before I lock ya outside!"

I turned around, deciding not to wait for Spot to catch up, and cautiously continued the walk towards the lodging house. I could already make out the sign above the door when I broke into a run. I heard Spot shout behind me to slow down, but I couldn't help but feel at risk being on the street so close to home. It was exactly the feeling that I always encountered when my mother had me run to the pantry in the very basement of our house. Even carrying a flickering candle couldn't reassure the feeling that something was chasing me up the steps to the door to the ground level of our house. It felt the same way now. I was almost to safety, and even though I had nothing to worry about, I would feel better getting through the door and shutting it soundly behind me.

So I did just that.

I leaped up the eight front steps in three giant bounds, lunged towards the front door and swung the door open, and closed the door soundly behind me. I had forgotten about a certain Spot that was supposed to be following me and then jumped and let out a small yelp when I heard a body come through the doorway. Of course, it was only Spot and I was just being over-sensitive, but I couldn't control when emotions from my childhood bubbled to the surface.

"Flor, what was dat back there?" Spot asked. "Ya just took off!"

I rubbed my eyes. "Hell, I dunno. Just... just sign in okay? An' then I'll get cha a bunk or a towel or somethin' to dry off with an' you can go ta bed, okay?"

Spot nodded, still obviously unsatisfied with my less-than-truthful answer, and I looked over the names that were signed in the book. We had a total of 24 regular newsies that I was aware of, and I counted all the names that had been signed in. We were at 20.

I sighed. "Okay, dat's good enough. I'll show ya to the washroom and you can use my towel I guess, and then just pick a bunk to sleep on. I got's ta stay up and wait for everyone ta get in so I can lock up." Spot nodded understanding the procedure.

I returned downstairs and grabbed a book that I had stashed behind the counter: _Pride and Prejudice. _I kicked my feet up and began the wait for the rest of the crew to get in. I was only two chapters in to the book, after starting it just a few months ago. For one thing, my reading rate had rapidly decreased in the eight years that I had been living on the streets and fending for myself. I was no longer in the, ironically, Christian school like I was enrolled in before I left home, and at eight, although my reading level was high for my age, it hardly had the chance to get better. This was the only time I had to read too, so my progress on the story was always slow. Sometimes Catch would come down and wait with me, and since her vocabulary was superior to mine, just from a few extra years of school, I could read maybe four or five pages a night compared to one or two without her help. It was all a very slow process, but I was more than determined that I would finish the book at some point or another, regardless of how long it took me.

I found comfort in Elizabeth Bennet and her sisters. Even her disagreeable mother. I found solace in such a faraway place like England and a time period so different than the present. I knew deep in my heart that my longing for such a place was useless, but I could imagine, couldn't I?

As I propped my feet up onto the front desk and opened the book, I leaned back in my chair and checked the small pocket watch that was under the counter as well. It was almost eleven. I sighed and folded back the dog-eared page of the book and began trying to decipher what was being said. Something along the lines of a Bingley coming to town and Lizzie's father refusing to see him so that the girls could go see him then was being expressed. I didn't fully understand it though. If the girls wanted to go see him, couldn't they just go? Why did their father have to be acquainted with him at first? It didn't make sense to me.

I had gotten through about three quarters of a page after fifteen minutes when all four of the missing newsies straggled in. Quirk being one of them.

They nodded to me as they filed into the lobby, and then headed to the bunkroom as soon as they were done signing in.

Quirk hung back as I was putting away the sign in book as well as _Pride and Prejudice. _"Ya won't eva guess who I'se just wid." She looked at me with almost dreamy eyes and then they turned back to an excitable, but still rather girly, expression.

I laughed softly, trying to keep my voice down, and knew that she was with Kid Blink. "And if I could?"

She mulled over some responses and then came to the conclusion of one."Wull, ya can't, so dere ain't no 'wut if' necessary, is dere?"

I laughed again, fully knowing what she was about to tell me. "I'se wid Blink." She sighed with content. "Ya know, I tink dere's an actual chance dat he migh'... ya know... like me."

"A boy? Like... QUIRK?" I gasped and clutched my chest in fake astonishment. "Quirk, I hate ta be da one ta break it to ya, but Blink's only got one eye. He can't see so good." A smile spread across my face as I stood up from my chair and walked around the corner. She knew I was joking around.

"Hey, I know what cha mean. I'se not so sure 'bout it neither." Quirk sighed and began to walk up the steps as I locked the front door.

"Aw, Quirk. You know I'se just kiddin'." I threw my arm around her shoulders as I caught up to her. "I like da thought a' you an' Blink togetha. It's cute." I smiled, and Quirk grinned happily. I grew serious, "But don't you dare tell anyone I said dat, I'll deck ya."

"Cross me heart if you cross yours." She returned the stare and I nodded in agreement.

We split directions at the top of the stairs. Quirk headed back to the bunkroom and I went to the washroom to clean up before bed. I shuffled towards the large pump that supplied water for the basin and filled up a large pitcher with, regrettably, cold water. I carried it over to the mirror where I normally washed up and poured a bit of it into a shallow tin bowl, removing my-Spot's cap from my head and hanging it on a peg beside the mirror in front of me. I dipped the tail end of a ragged washcloth into the water and rubbed the cloth across my face to try and rid some of the dirt that had gathered there. I looked at my hair in the mirror and noted its greasiness, but knew there was nothing I could do about it. I french braided it down my back and disregarded it, moving to brush my teeth.

At last, I deemed myself ready to sleep and picked Spot's cap off of the peg. I twirled it around on my fingers as I quietly made my way across the hall and through the bunkroom. I took my time at the beginning bunks to check on the little ones. I went around to the bunks and pulled the blankets over the ones that had seemingly collapsed into bed and kissed the six boys on the forehead. A few of them cracked open their eyes and murmured a goodnight to me which made my heart warm. It was a nice way to end my night.

Once I had checked and double-checked them all, I walked towards the divider at the end of the hall. I shuffled in and moved towards the rack that held all our clothing. I pulled down a spare pair of long johns, seeing as mine were still partially wet and kicked my boots off in the general direction of my bed behind me. I tossed Spot's cap onto the chair beside me and began to unbutton my shirt to toss it to the same chair. I pulled my suspenders down and took off my pants then, groaning at the mud from the river that had collected on them.

As I began to unbutton the top of my long johns I heard a cough behind me. A deep one.

"Before ya continue, I tink it'd be wise ta mention dat I'm still awake." A voice accompanied the cough softly afterwards. I turned quickly, my braid snapping around to rest in the front of my body, and stalked to my bed.

Sure enough, there was someone laying there.

Spot.

In my bed.

Smirking at me.

Underneath _my _covers.

In the bed _I _had earned.

"You're in. My bed." I said clearly. Spot sat up on his side, propping himself up with his right hand.

"Pretty comfy, ain't it?" He smirked at me again, knowing he was getting me angry already.

"Yeah, get outta it. It's mine, and it's mind fa a reason." I crossed my arms in front of him.

"Dere ain't no beds left, where's ya guest s'posed ta sleep?"

"Da floor." I grabbed his collar in a lunge and yanked him out of bed, thankfully not ending in a loud thud. He looked at me, astonished but still amused, and stood up while brushing himself off. I noticed he was still in his street clothes.

His _wet _street clothes.

I glared at him. "You laid. In my bed. Wit wet clothes on." I shook my head as I pushed him back onto the bed. "Stay dere. I'll get cha a pair a' Cig's shorts." I walked back out from the divider quietly and found Cig. I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Cig, I'm takin' a pair a ya shorts." I opened his bedside drawer carefully and retrieved a pair of raggedy looking shorts for Spot. Cig murmured quietly and gave me a thumbs up.

I walked back to the divider and saw Spot changing out of his clothes. He hung them thoughtfully up on a spare peg that was under where Quirk, Catch, and I had our possessions stored. I cleared my throat and he turned around as I blushed. He was only in his boxers.

I tossed the shorts to him and he caught them, pulling them on over his underwear. I was reminded that I still hadn't changed out of my own long-johns and asked him to throw me the pair that was still hanging on the chair where I left them a few minutes earlier. He obliged and as I was going to change them, I turned around.

"I want da pillow if I'm takin' da floor. And da blanket, fa dat matter." I left Spot behind the divider and quickly changed in the washroom before returning again.

Spot was sitting up in my bed, leaning against the wall at the head of it.

"Pillow? Blanket?" I asked quietly, preparing myself to sleep on the floor.

"Why don't cha jus' sleep on it wit me?" Spot suggested thoughtfully. "I'se feel bad if ya have ta sleep on da floor."

"Well den, you're jus' gonna have ta deal wit dat. I'm not sleepin' in a wet bed." I yanked the pillow and blanket from under Spot and tossed them onto a clear space on the floor. "If ya step on me, I'm never talkin' ta ya again."

I laid out the blanket onto the floor and adjusted myself onto it accordingly, before wrapping half of it around me and curling up on the wood.

A few minutes passed and I heard the sound of springs squeaking behind me. Spot must have recognized it was pointless to argue about it, and given up.

I allowed myself to fall asleep, even as a I felt a few splinters poking me through the blanket and had no real comfortable position to be in.

* * *

><p>I woke up several hours later, just as the sun was beginning to make hints of rising on the horizon. It was still rather dark outside, but I couldn't sleep any longer. I sat up from where I was uncomfortably laying and let out a sharp yelp from a painful kink in my back. The pain was quick, but left my eyesight temporarily black. I rubbed my back with my fingers and tried to stretch out, but couldn't.<p>

"Flor?" I heard Catch's voice from beside me.

"Yeah, Catch. It's just me. Go back ta sleep. Everythin's fine." I replied quietly.

She grumbled and let her head fall back onto the pillow with an audible sigh.

"I told ya ya shoulda slept on da bed wit me." Spot said behind me, very clearly.

"And I told you dat I didn't wanna sleep inna wet bed." I responded with a hoarse voice and stood up. I bent down, wincing, and tossed the pillow and sheet onto my bed. I decided it was better that I was up already and limped my way over to the shelves.

I grabbed a simple white shirt and grey trousers with my blue suspenders. I made a reach for my bowler hat but sadly remembered I had lost it.

When Spot had kissed me.

This was going to be a hell of a day, I could feel it already.

I pulled my shirt on, facing the big windows at the very end of the divvied off section for Catch, Quirk, and I, and rubbed my eyes. I buttoned up my shirt and carefully unfolded my trousers before pulling them on and buttoning them up as well. I adjusted my suspenders accordingly and redid the braid I had in my hair. I sighed once and rubbed my back again as I tried to stretch it out once more.

Spot was sitting up against the wall again.

He asked softly, "Ya leavin' already? It's hardly four, I bet."

I shrugged. "No point in stayin' here if I can get otha stuff done. Get fresh air before it's time ta work." I grabbed Spot's cap from where I threw it last night and motioned it towards him. "You should take dis."

He shook his head. "Naw, keep it 'til I getcha a new one."

I half smiled and responded, "Thanks, Spot." I cleared my throat, "I'll be back in a couple 'a hours. 'Round six, probably."

"Where ya goin'?" He asked.

I shrugged again. "Wherever da sidewalk takes me, Spotty. See ya 'round."

* * *

><p>AN: Well hey there! *Hides in shame* What's it been? Like a year? Year and a half?

Yeah.

Well.

*excuses, excuses*

I started my junior year of high school and writing has been taking a backburner in my life (I have seven academic classes and no study hall, all of them being either AP or honors, bad decision, Jerica. Bad decision).

So, if this chapter seems a little different than the others, it's because I've largely been out of practice. But I decided to reread what I wrote of this beforehand and fell in love with it all over again, so hopefully I'll be able to update regularly. (I'm not setting a regular updating time because I know I _will _break that).

So for now, enjoy this utterly pointless chapter and give my story a reread if you're still planning on reading this, and please try not to murder me.

I'm just a sixteen year old girl that fantasizes about marrying Spot Conlon...

Too far?

Thought so.

See you soon, read and review :)

-Jerica


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Queens, New York**

**May 15, 1899**

I lazily made my way down the steps of the lodging house and hopped down the last few steps of the stairs, causing a loud thump. I took a deep breath and shuffled behind the front counter to get the check-in book out once more before rubbing my eyes yet again and tossing my braid over my shoulder. There were times when I just wanted to cut it all off, but I always either convinced myself out of it or someone else did. There were a few close calls, not to mention a few of the pranks the boys pulled on me when I got older, but that was when I was still the only girl the lodging house, and in Queens for that matter.

Things have changed since then, with the acceptance of Catch and Quirk and my leadership of Queens beginning. The boys still enjoyed tormenting me every once and awhile, but it didn't take long for them to remember that I was the leader. However, I didn't always feel that I was the actual leader. It just came naturally to me, being able to get my ideas across and getting people to listen to me. I just commanded it, and people obeyed. It's what separated me from the rest of the gang: I knew how to talk and when to take action.

In all honesty, I always believed that Cadet should have picked Cig to be the leader. He was older, more experienced, and generally a more logical choice to pick. I was the first girl leader of Queens, and probably in more boroughs than just ours. Cadet had ruined the streak of burly boys taking control of the roost. I was sure I wouldn't ever understand his thought process in picking me.

I was just a bull-headed girl that knew how to raise her voice.

But I was here now, and that was what mattered. Speculation wasn't going to help with anything, and it surely wasn't going to solve the problem with Dag or the wanderers we had had into our territory in the past weeks. It wasn't anything to really be worried about, but they were problems, nonetheless.

I shoved my hands in my pockets as I mulled over the action I should take. I had an hour and forty five minutes before I needed to be back here, and for once, I didn't know how to spend it. I sat down on the front steps and tried to decide if I needed to do anything at all.

Nothing was really open for me to do.

I leaned back on my shoulders and looked at the sky that was slowly getting lighter and lighter. I breathed in deeply again and yawned. The position I slept in last night was hardly conducive to getting up at four. The floorboards weren't favorable, to say the very least, but I guess you take what you can get. Speaking solely from experience, the streets were sometimes better, but not all the time. You had to be selective about where you stayed and when.

I suddenly wished that I had something to do. Ever since Cadet appointed me, I was always busy with something. There were people to look after, other leaders to consult, and always newspapers to sell. It was a rare occurrence when I had free time, any of us really, and when I found myself pining for it and finally getting some, I never spent it well.

It's not like I could go anywhere to do anything either. "Street rats" weren't allowed into schools or libraries... unless you could clean yourself up well enough to pass as at least a kid that had a family to go home to and a few cents extra to spend on what you liked. Although, a lot of my kids didn't have that kind of money, they barely had the funds to buy the food they needed and their papers to sell and to pay for boarding.

I helped them as much as they needed whenever I could, but sometimes it wasn't possible. If it came down to the line, I think anyone would make sure their own butts were covered before someone else's. And it's not like they would be considered selfish, you just fend for yourself. It's both understandable and accepted in our world. You consider yourself before you consider others.

Even Quirk, Catch, Cig, and I would still favor ourselves over each other, even though we would probably be more willing to help each other out than the other older kids. I make it a point to help the younger kids first though. I never want them to be on the streets alone. It's a hard life to live- I knew it well.

Cig was the one to find me on the streets, right near the Brooklyn bridge.

I was eight years old when he found me, battered and bruised, crying and starving by myself. No one had spared me a second glance. I was just another insignificant kid on the streets that didn't have a place to go. It wasn't like it was uncommon. Orphans roamed the streets daily, and I managed to blend in well enough with them.

Those were still dangerous waters to tread in. Waters I didn't even want to dip my toes in yet, let alone tread in. But that's a topic for a different day, isn't it?

I breathed in deeply once more and heard the five o'clock church bells chiming. I decided I had about half an hour before I needed to get back to the lodging house to wake everyone up. I didn't know what I was supposed to do with myself.

Slowly, I decided it was time for me to get up and get walking back anyways. I didn't have anything left to do, so I might as well go back to somewhere that I had responsibilities. I sighed and pushed myself up, kicking a few remaining stones into the water and turned back towards the streets.

Unconsciously I began to whistle along to an old Scottish song my mother used to sing on wash day. It was more than ironic, since we were directly from Ireland, but it was a pretty song regardless. "Loch Lomond," it was called.

_Oh, you'll take the high road and I'll take the low road,_  
><em>And I'll be in Scotland afore ye.<em>  
><em>For me and my true love will never meet again,<em>  
><em>On the bonnie, bonnie, banks, O'Loch Lomond.<em>

I remembered her scrubbing at our aprons and my brother Donnan's work pants before we could afford to hire a housekeeping staff. I smiled at the memory, and yet grew sad because of Donnan, my mother, and my twin sisters Brogan and Brielle. They'd all been out of my life for over eight years, and I missed Donnan the most. I would give almost anything to see him again.

But that wouldn't be happening.

I wouldn't permit it.

They had all been out of my life for eight years, and I could stand another eight.

I cleared my throat and readjusted Spot's cap on my head. I had to give it back to him. It wasn't right for me to have his cap just because I'd been stupid enough to lose mine in the water.

It just wasn't right.

I'd only met him yesterday, and even though we were on good terms, I didn't want anything between us. I had a borough and a handful of kids to take care of, and Spot would only get in the way.

I shuffled down the middle of the street, keeping my hands in my pockets and head bent down. I nodded respectfully at a few people that greeted me in some way, and made it back to the lodging house by half after five.

Cig was sitting on the front steps of the house smoking where I had been earlier and he waved me over.

"How ya doin', kid?" He asked as I sat down beside him and nuzzled under his arm.

I groaned and said, "My back hurts."

He rubbed his hand across my back and took a long drag from his cigarette. "You sellin' evenin' today?" He asked again.

"I dunno," I muttered, feeling my eyes droop as I laid my upper body across his lap. "I dunno if I can make it through the mornin' without fallin' asleep."

He made a noise of agreement and grabbed a hold of my braid as he took a final drag of his cigarette, the smoke puffing out from his nose.

"When'd'ya get a new cap, Kills?" Cig called me by my actual first name, or rather, the nickname for my real first name. Florence was my middle name, Killian my first. I was named after my mother, and didn't like to use it anymore.

I slapped my hat onto the stairs beside us and groaned. "It's Spot's."

Cig pushed me off his lap in astonishment, "Spot's? That's Spot's cap? What're'ya doin' with Spot's cap?"

"He's upstairs." I responded lazily, not thinking of the possible misconceptions Cig could make.

"I'll kill 'em." Cig jumped up from the stoop and open the front door in a flash. I followed after him, shouting louder than what I would have wanted.

"CIG!" I yelled, but he refused to slow down, so I shouted at him again. "CIG!"

He still didn't turn around.

I used my last resort, his full name. "THOMAS MATTHEW COLLINS YOU STOP RIGHT THERE AND GET DOWN HERE IMMEDIATELY."

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around, glaring at me. His cheeks were a bright red and he dragged his hand through his hair in discontent.  
>He reluctantly grabbed ahold of the banister and stomped down the steps to me.<p>

"He stayed here last night because the bulls were out. You know 'bout them. Yestaday was Wednesday and he was still in Queens. It takes hours to get back to Brooklyn, so I said he could stay here and sell with us to pay for his rent." I crossed my arms and kept a straight face.

"Cool down, Tommy-boy. I'm gonna get da kids up. Oh, and ya mind if I jack one o'ya caps? I'm givin' this one back." I asked calmly. I walked past him and he nodded, muttering to check on the post of his bunk, and I patted him on the shoulder.

I sat at the side of each of the younger kid's beds and gently roused them. I shook a few of them on the shoulder, a few I pushed back their hair from their head and softly told them it was time to wake up, and helped several down from their top bunks and onto the floor. They scratched their heads and shuffled to the washroom to take turns standing on a small chair to look in the mirror. I liked to give them a few extra minutes in the washroom before everyone else got in so that they could be sure to get ready on time, and if they needed my help, I could give it to them.

I followed the last one into the washroom and looked at the row of them lined up in front of the long sink. Several were leaning on it as they brushed their teeth and I went down the line to comb all of their hair. They wouldn't look messy on my watch.

"Flor?" One of them asked.

"Yeah, bud?" I flung my braid over my shoulder and tipped Spot's cap back further onto my head.

"Why's do we's gotta be up so early?" He walked over and hugged me around my waist. "I'se so tired."

"Did you ever hear of 'the early bird catches the worm'?" I asked him, crouching down to look him in the eyes.

He shook his head no. "Well, do you want to know what it means?" I asked again and he nodded eagerly.

"It means that if you wake up early, you'll be able ta finish selling early, and then go do fun stuff. If ya sleep in and get up late, a lotta people'll have their papes already, so you won't be able ta finish sellin' every one you bought. That make sense?" I smoothed the hair behind his ear. He was only six, his name was Fish because of his innate ability to swim. I swear, he could even beat me.

He appeared to mull it over for a minute and then nodded eagerly again. "I'se gonna use dat now!" He grinned and then gave me another hug before pattering off towards the bunkroom to get changed.

"Anyone else need anything? Or are you all almost finished?" They all nodded sleepily and I continued. "I'm gonna wake up the older boys now, but if you need anything else just holler for one of us to help you out."

I trudged back to the bunk room and began shaking the boys awake. I rattled their bunks and slapped a few on the face to get them awake, but eventually all of them were sleepily blinking their eyes and rolling out of bed.

"Let's get movin' boys, we got papers ta sell!" I yelled as I wandered back towards the divider at the back of the room. I walked to Quirk's bed first and pushed her onto the floor after she refused to wake up any other way.

Her head popped up from beside the bed. "Strut!" She yelled, "What the hell?!"

I smirked and slapped Catch on the arm. "S'not my fault you're a heavy sleeper. Ya gotta get up somehow." I shrugged and turned back around. "We'se leavin' in twenty minutes. I'll be downstairs."

As I was walking back to the hallway I heard shouting coming from the washroom. I quickened my pace and stood at the entrance to the washroom. There group of about seven guys off to the corner that were cornered around something, or rather, someone.

"Hey!" I yelled, approaching them. No one turned around. "HEY!" I yelled again. They stopped and slowly turned. I stood behind them, commanding their attention.

"What's da big idea, huh?" I asked Tubs, the boy that was closest to me. I put my hands on my hips and raised my eyebrows. "An answer'd be nice. We all got papes to sell... unless you'd ratha not sell with the Queenies anymore?" My ultimatum was simple. Shape up, or ship out.

Tubs backed off, and Cookie stepped up from behind him, leaving a space that I could see in to the center of the circle.

And there stood Spot.

"Why's he 'ere?" Cookie asked, motioning with his thumb towards Spot.

I rolled my eyes, cleared my throat, and shook my head. "He was on his way back from 'Hattan last night, afta he showed up at the park. Goin' back ta Brooklyn. I'se was down at the docks, like I always am and on my way back when we ran inta each other. And if ya remember, the bulls were all out last night. So I offered for Spot ta stay here so he didn't hafta go to the Refuge."

"So you let 'im sleep here?" Tubs spoke up.

"Yeah. I did." I responded defensively. "Because I dunno about you'se all, but when I see a fellow Newsie dat needs a place ta stay on Bull night, I let him wit us. Do ya got a problem wit dat?" I waited for an answer for him, simultaneously pulling Spot from the center of the circle and pushing him towards the exit of the washroom.

Tubs started to talk again, but I cut him off. He caught me on a bad day.

"No. It don't matta if you gots a problem wit it. Know why? Because I'm da leada, and you ain't. And look guys," I softened my voice a bit. "I love ya. Ya're my brothas. But it's not ya're decision to make. It's mine. And you hafta be okay with the decisions dat I do make. Alright?" I looked each of the guys in the eyes, and they all nodded. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Get outta here, and make sure you sign the book before ya leave."

The boys all pushed past me, Tubs giving me a hug on the way out as a way to apologize, and I rubbed my eyes. Second time I've had to yell today already, and we aren't even on the streets yet. This was shaping up to be a great day. I turned around again to see Spot leaning against the doorframe to the washroom.

"Christ, Flor. Dunno what I expected, but dat wasn't it."

"Surprised?" I asked, cracking my back.

"Pleasantly." He responded, smirking.

I pushed past him and walked back into the bunkroom, towards Cig's bed. Just as he promised, there was an extra cap hanging on the back post of his bed. I grabbed it quickly and took Spot's cap off my head, replacing it with Cig's. I checked in again with Catch and Quirk and they were both lacing up their boots.

I stepped towards my bed and sat down at the foot.

"Heard you yelling." Catch stated.

"What else's new?" Quirk added.  
>"Just the guys bein' guys." I explained.<p>

"And the reason for you using Cig's whole name?" Catch asked again.

"I'll explain lata." I responded.

Spot popped into the divvied off room and took a seat beside me. I stood up as he sat down, throwing his cap onto his lap as I did.

"Found anotha." I said.

"Keep it." He insisted, forcing it back into my hands.

"Spot. Keep ya hat, or I'll throw it out da window." I threw it at his face again.

He directed his next statement to the girls. "She's known me fa a day an' a half, an' she's already threatenin' ta throw me stuff out da winda. This goil." He shook his head and smirked at me. Catch's mouth dropped as she looked back and forth between Spot and I, and Quirk started laughing.

I shrugged his comment off, knowing the satisfaction he'd get from my annoyance and walked out. A large portion of my brain told myself that taking Spot in was a bad idea.

As I reached the bottom of the staircase I saw Cig standing behind the front counter, making sure each boy signed his name and paid if he hadn't already. Miss Molly was sweeping the front steps of the lodging house and talking leisurely with the boys that were waiting outside for the rest of us.

I walked over to Cig and leaned against him. "Thanks for takin' care o' sign in. We should be 'bout ready to go."

Cig nodded and flicked the brim of my cap. "See ya found it."

"Yeah, thanks again." I said.

Catch, Quirk, and Spot bounded down the steps together and signed the book.

"I'll put this away, Cig." I said, patting him on the back and pushing him towards the door. I turned the book around so I could read it correctly and checked down all the signatures. For each person that signed in last night, there was another signature and a 'P' beside each line, except for Spot's. He promised he'd give me the first five cents he got with the papers he sold today.

I closed the book soundly and put it back in its place beneath the counter. I put the fountain pen back into the pen cup and walked to the front door. I called in to the lounge area where some of the boys were sitting on the couches and told them it was time to go before throwing open the front door and jumping off the top steps to the bottom.

I waved to Miss Molly as I found Quirk and Catch and pulled them along with me.

"Everyone set to go?" I said with a voice louder than normal.

A chorus of generally positive responses sounded and I said again, "Off to da Distribution Center!"

Quirk threw her arm around me. "So ya wanna tell us why Spot's still 'ere? An' why he slept in ya bed las' night?"

I looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "I'se said I'll tell ya lata."

"Shoah, shoah." She said as she and Catch shared a look and I smacked them both on the shoulders.

"C'mon, let's just get to the DC."

The walk from the Lodging House to the DC took about twelve minutes. Half that if you were running late. We, however, were earlier than usual. It was only about a quarter to seven, and we only had a few more minutes of walking left to do. The papers didn't come out for us until seven, so we'd have a few minutes of waiting to do before the gates opened.

We continued our walk, with our hands shoved pockets as Cig and the Professor caught up with us. They walked behind our trio and we reached the center in no time. My boys all crowded around the gate, taking seats on the fences, curb, or crates that were scattered around the general area.

Cig, the Professor, Spot, Quirk, Catch, and I all leaned against the gate to wait for the bell.

Prof turned to me, "Wanna sell tagetha taday, Strut? You, me, an' Cig?"

"Why da heck not." I laughed. Spot coughed from beside me.

"Problem, Spotty?" I asked.

"Guess I'se just gonna sell wit cha goils then, huh?" He retorted.

"Might as well."

"Unless ya wanna sell wit Strut?" Cig asked. "'Cuz if ya do, ya can. We'se can jus' be in pairs den. We'se can sell wit Strut lata, right Prof?"

For God's sake.

"How's about I jus' sell by meself?" I asked, right as the bell tolled and New York World employees unlocked the gates.

I walked through the gates, nodding to the employees that I recognized, and straight to the window. I knocked on the counter several times and waited for the slats to open up.

As soon as they did, I asked for eighty papers, slapped the money onto the counter, grabbed my papers, and headed out on my own. If someone wanted to catch up with me to sell, they could do it on their own time. I had papers to sell.

I walked a few blocks, ignoring the shouts from the crew that sounded from behind me, and I eventually stopped after selling a few papers as I went. A surprisingly large amount of people were on the streets already, as I sold a few more papers while sitting down.

I saw a few of my boys around in passing, and they waved in recognition. I waved back at them and continued selling my papers.

In no time, I was down to about fifty. I shouted the headlines and continued my walk. Somehow, I ended up close to the Lodging House and stayed in the general area.

I was down to twenty papers at 10:45, and I still hadn't seen anyone from the cabinet.

Had I been too rash? Made a ridiculous mistake?

I guess I had stormed off for no apparent reason. Lack of sleep and yelling always put me in a bad mood somehow. It was the equation for bitchiness.

Sighing, I recognized my fault and tried to finish selling the rest of my papers while walking to the park. We all met there for lunch regardless of what happened, so that's where I headed.

I made my way to the market as well, still having to pick up some lunch for me and extra for those who needed it. I went to the same place I did yesterday and got four apples and a turkey sandwich for just ten cents.

I stuffed the apples into my trouser pockets and stuck the turkey sandwich into the pocket of my shirt. The vendor there bought three of my newspapers, leaving me with seven left to sell.

At last, I got to the park and sold the rest of my papers with about half an hour left to wait, but the crew ended up showing earlier than anticipated.

Apparently, I was easily recognizable, because I heard the voices of Catch and Spot before I even saw them.

"FLORENCE CONNER." They shouted simultaneously.

Oh goodie, I was definitely in for it now. If Catch wasn't bad for me on her own, having a second person to help hide my dead body after she brutally murdered me would be even worse.

* * *

><p>AN: Well howdy hey, Ranger Joe!

That's from something, isn't it?

I can't remember what though...

/unimportant/

I've been working on this on and off for a while now, so apologies that nothing really happens and it's taken me forever.

I've just finished my mid-terms on Tuesday the 18th and I've been working every day since then or else this would have probably been up before now.

But alas, excuses.

Thanks to everyone *AKA no-one* that reviewed.

You guys break my heart.

Okay not really, but close enough.

CUT ME SOME SLACK

I'm writing this like I know you personally, and I really don't. Okay I'm rambling.

Stop it, Jerica. Stop. Go to sleep.

Okay, hope you all that still follow this deem this worth a read.

AND I'M BEGGING YOU PLEASE REVIEW TO MAKE ME FEEL LOVED.

With Love,

Jerica

(((srsly review guise pls)))


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Friday, May 15, 1899**

**Queens, New York**

I waited for the crew to reach me with wide eyes. Quirk was attempting to calm Catch down, pushing on her shoulders and shaking her a bit. Catch resisted her, throwing off Quirk's arms from around her body and just as fast, she was running towards me. She had her cap clutched in her right hand and her eyes were hard.

I braced myself for the confrontation. Catch was hardly ever anything but motherly, and even when she did have something serious to say, she said it in such a way that she was surprised and disappointed, more than agitated and angry.

Catch slowed as she reached me. She crossed her arms in front of me and spoke in a chillingly even voice. "So how was your day Miss Conner?"

I didn't respond, simply averting my eyes to the ground and kicking at the soil at the base of the tree.

"I am expecting an answer, Killian."

I looked up at her once and let out a deep breath. "It was nice, Kate. Thanks for caring."

"So where did you visit today then, O'Wondrous Leader?" She sneered.

"Been around." I replied. I looked over her shoulder and saw Spot, Quirk, and Cig mulling behind her.

I heard their raised voices as Catch tried to think of something to say. Cig was pushing Spot back and Quirk was forcing her way towards us.

Quirk shoved my back into the trunk of the tree. "What's ya deal, Flor? Eh? Ya jus' leave us? Go off whereva ya feel like? What da hell's ya deal?" She shoved my shoulder again.

Catch sat down where she was standing and slung her cap onto her head. She rubbed her eyes as Quirk and I followed suit.

I flung my own cap onto the ground beside me. "You'se know how I get sometimes." I spoke softly. "Didn't get much sleep last night either."

"Shouldn't ever be an excuse, Kills." Catch said. "You're the leader, and you've got kids looking up to you. Following your example."

I nodded once.

"Ya know what Cig thought?" Quirk asked. She lowered her voice. "He thought ya Dad was back. He thought he came back, an' he found ya 'gain. He thought he'd hafta come find ya 'gain." She sniffed and raised her voice. "He thought you'd come back bruised and cryin' jus' like he found ya the firs—"

"Hope I'se not interruptin' nothin'." I heard Spot say from above us. Quirk's eyes flitted to Spot as she wiped her eyes and nose and looked from Catch to I and back.

A smirk grew on my face as I returned the look to the two girls. Catch kicked my leg and Quirk swatted my arm and everything was resolved. We had gotten out what we needed to get out.

Cig lazily followed Spot's footsteps and sat down on the ground beside me, placing one of his arms around my legs. Spot sat next to Cig.

"Ya aw'right?" Cig leaned in to ask me and I nodded in response, handing him an apple.

"You guys done sellin'?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

Catch and Quirk were both done, but neither Cig nor Spot were.

"Are you'se?" Spot asked.

"Yeah, finished a bit ago." I said casually as I waved to several of my newsies that had come to eat in the park.

"How?" He asked incredulously.

I gave him a look of disbelief, as did the rest of the crew sitting with me.

"Whaddya mean how?"

"Dat was only a couple hours ago. How'd ya sell so many already?"

"Strut's not da leada for nothin', Spot. Dunno what ya've heard 'bout her, but she can sell. Dat's for sure." Quirk crossed her arms behind her head and kicked her feet in front of her, lying back onto the ground and relaxing.

Cig laughed softly and took a few bites of his apple.

"The bonfire's tomorrow." I said to Cig. "Wanna tell 'em tonight 'fore dinner?"

"Yeah, dat sounds good. 'Ey, Spot. Brooklyn goin' to da bonfire tomorra?"

Spot laced his shoes and looked towards Cig. "Dunno if we'se invited. Haven't talked ta none a' da boys from da Battery fa a while."

"Well, would you wanna go if ya could?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think da boy's'd like dat." He nodded.

I saw our second runner, Bull, walk into the park with Cookie and Tubs. The crew that confronted Spot earlier today, and called Bull over.

"Yeah, Strut?" He asked.

"Need ya ta run to the Battery for me. Check in with the boys there an' see if Brooklyn can come to da get tagetha tomorrow. Aw'right? Sell ya papes on the way, you can take ya fellas with ya if ya want to then come back." I said and shooed them off. They all nodded and were on their way.

"What'd'ya do that for?" Spot asked accusingly.

I looked at him and raised my eyebrow. "In that case… BULL! YA DON'T HAFTA GO TO THE BATTERY."

Spot looked at me with surprise written across his face. He shook his head and took a breath as he yelled to Bull. "DISREGARD FLORENCE HERE. SHE'S ON THE RAG."

Without a second thought, Cig immediately shoved Spot over and slapped him on the back several times. I rolled my eyes and laughed at the open-mouthed Catch sitting across from me.

One of the littlest boys, Teddy, that had heard Spot's comment came over and tugged my shirt sleeve.

"Yeah, Teddy?" I asked.

"What's the rag?" He asked innocently.

Spot took initiative and answered him. "Well, Teddy. It happens for one week outta da whole month an' it only happens ta goils, ya see? And what happens… well… dese goils, they jus' turn unbearable. Dey's horrible ta be 'round. Jus' real snooty and mean. Doesn't sound very nice, does it, Kid?" Teddy shook his head no and Spot continued. "So now, wheneva you hear or see a goil actin' weird, ya jus' gotta ask her if she's on da rag. And then you'll know why she's actin' weird. Neat, huh?" He ruffled Teddy's hair and shooed him away.

"You're an insufferable misogynist." I said to him.

"Takes one to know one." He replied coolly.

Catch snickered from in front of me, as she realized Spot's word choice mistake.

"Got somethin' ta share, Catch?" Spot asked.

"You just used the word incorrectly. A misogynist is, in this case, a man that hates women. If you meant to say that Strut hated men, the correct noun would have been a misandrist." Catch educated us. She was always good to have around to make sure your point got understood.

"It ever cross ya mind dat I knew what it meant before?" Spot countered.

"If you knew what it meant before you would have used the right word, wouldn't you have?" Catch responded with a certain level of snark in her voice. I could tell she wanted to prove him wrong.

And she did. She completely did.

Spot stared Catch down for several seconds, as if he was debating if he should continue the argument or just let it go. He decided with the latter, narrowing his eyes at her once and then rolling them, heaving his chest in an overly-dramatic way. Catch smirked and looked outstandingly proud of herself.

I cleared my throat. "What are you guys doin' since ya finished sellin'?" I directed my question to Catch and Quirk.

The pair shared a look and Quirk rubbed her neck. "Well… we'se thought we'd take a visit ta 'Hattan… see if dey's goin' to da bonfire too, ya know? And if dey ain't… we'se wanted ta convince dem ta come." Quirk laughed nervously and I nodded in agreement.

"Good idea, dere," I said approvingly. "What about you two? How much more ya gotta sell?"

Cig motioned to the significant stack of papers that was plopped beside him.

"'Bout twenty 'tween da two of us." Cig said. Spot nodded in agreement.

"Want me to sell for ya?" I asked.

"You can come wit us if ya like. Can't have my sellin' reputation ruined by a girl." Cig countered playfully as he ruffled my hair.

"I actually think I'm gonna decline. See if any of da younger kids need help sellin', and then probably jus' head back to the house." I pushed myself off the ground and nodded to the group as I brushed off my backside. "See ya guys 'round."

I began walking to a group of the younger boys that were running around. Several of them still had newspapers to sell, from what I could see, although it didn't look like many. Just three or four here and there.

"Strut!" Teddy yelled in excitement when he saw me.

"Hey kid!" I greeted, with a huge smile on my face. He ran up to me and hugged me around my waist, his chin resting on my hip as he looked up at me, smiling as well. "How's it goin'? Sell all ya papes?"

He unlatched from around me as he shook his head no. "I only gots a few left. But no one's buyin'." He looked at the ground and kicked at the dirt.

"What about everyone else? They done?" He shook his head no again.

"Well, I'll tell you what. If you can get all ya buddies ova here with their papes, I'll sell 'em all for ya and then you'se can keep playin', and then I'll give ya all ya money back. How's dat sound?" His eyes grew wide because of his evident happiness as he ran to get his friends and all of their papers.

The group of five handed me all their papers. I asked them all to remember how many papers they had for me to sell and they all nodded. They mulled around for a few seconds, as if waiting to see if I would tell them it was all a joke until I shooed them off.

They ran off yelling and playfully pushing each other and I laughed at the sight. I slung the stack of sixteen papers over my shoulder and began scouting out people to sell to. Not many newsies were still selling in the area, so I just began shouting out the headlines I had earlier.

There was a small bank scandal that had just surfaced, so I shouted out a headline as I passed a group of particularly well-off group of four men sitting on a park bench.

"LOCAL BANK AND WORKERS SUBJECT TO TRIAL FOR FRAUD!" I yelled. "YOUR MONEY IS NO LONGER SAFE." I walked slowly past the group of men and caught one of their eyes. He motioned me over.

"Good afternoon, sir." I nodded.

He tipped his hat in response and turned to the man beside him. "Did you hear about this, Wallace? A bank scandal. Again!"

I didn't know what he was talking about. There hadn't been any bank scandals in months, and I would be one to know, selling the papers that spread the word.

The gentleman, Wallace, I presumed, began to dig in his pocket, as did the one who had called me over.

"Wallace" shook his head and replied back, "Better not be another Robinson case." He nudged the man beside him and got his attention, asking if he wanted a paper.

Soon, all four men were buying papers from me. I smiled graciously and was on my way. "Have a nice day." I said politely. They tipped their hats and began searching for an article they had surely overestimated in size. It was probably no longer than the length of my finger.

Wasn't hardly my fault they bought into the lie. I just needed the money for the boys.

I continued walking along, shouting headlines that were customized to the people I was around. I spouted headlines about immigration laws to foreigners, unions to dirty looking and underpaid smiths and nannies, and medical breakthroughs or foreign politics to scholars or doctors. It all worked quite well, and then I was finally left with one paper.

I sighed deeply and sat down on a park bench, pulling my hat off as I mulled over the option of trashing my last paper and putting one of my own pennies into the small pile of coins I had in my pocket or actually selling it.

It was only one paper, after all.

Not an entire stack.

And the boys would definitely find out about it one way or another if I decided upon the former.

I rubbed at my eyes and the bridge of my nose, willing the dull throb what was slowly growing behind my eyes away. It didn't work.

"You know you'se terrible at comin' up wit headlines."

Perfect.

Who else but Spot would be here.

Honestly?

Who else did you expect?

I didn't so much as glance toward Spot as I stood straight up, putting my hat in my back pocket and holding the last paper high into the air.

I took several confident steps and shouted to the entire park, "WOMAN DRIVEN INSANE BY MAN PULLS KNIFE ON HUSBAND. SHE'S ON THE LOOSE! HOW TO PROTECT YOURSELF IN THE LASTEST EDITION."

I made eye contact with a woman selling roasted peanuts across from the benches and she motioned her hands toward me.

"Would ya like the latest edition, ma'am?" I asked.

"Belie' me. I wan' ten'na what e'va ya sellin' if it means wipin' dat kid's smirk off his face." She nodded towards Spot who was presumably sitting behind me with a smug ass look plastered across his face. I didn't even need to look in order to know just which one it was.

I chuckled at the woman. "This'll definitely help stick it to 'im." She handed me a penny and I exchanged it for the last paper.

"Have a nice day, ma'am." I nodded and turned my back on the woman to face Spot instead. I glanced at him, smirked, and flipped him off.

He seemed to expect this, however, and he smirked back. A smug expression once again returned to his face. He saluted mockingly and I rolled my eyes.

"See you tomorrow, Florence!" He shouted behind me with a chuckle.

I raised my right hand in recognition but didn't turn.

I yawned and rubbed a hand across my lower back, cracking my neck simultaneously.

For the second time today, I had nothing left to do.

It was too windy to go to the docks. I didn't have money that I could afford to spend. I didn't have anything to learn from a school, or soap to clean myself with to go to the library. My papers were all gone, plus some. And it wasn't like I had any family that I could visit.

Then my domestic side kicked in.

I could always go back to the lodging house and help Miss Molly clean up a bit. Even though it was what she got paid for, she had to do it every day, and would hardly be fun.

I sighed dejectedly; my mind had been made up, and I walked back to the house.

It took much shorter than I would have liked.

But soon enough, I was side by side with Miss Molly on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor with my sleeves rolled up and my bangs sticking to my forehead in sweat.

"God, Miss Molly, I had no idea how much work this was. Why didn't ya ever ask me ta help?" I stopped mid-scrub and sat up on my knees.

"I could have never asked that from you, Killian." She stopped scrubbing as well and swiped at her head with her sleeve. "And besides, it is my job, not yours." She laughed light-heartedly and went back to scrubbing.

"I can't hardly put up with da boys for a few hours a day tryin' ta direct 'em with what ta do. I can't 'magine cleanin' up after 'em every day." I scrubbed at the floor again.

"I have definitely gotten used to it. But the smell of these boys still surprises me every few days. I just walk into the bunkroom or the washroom and I get hit with this wall of stench. You would think they would know to bathe every now and again instead of just jumping in the river to clean. In reality, swimming in the river does not do anything when the water is as dirty as it is." She shook her head. "That is beside the point, though. How about we go clean up the bunkroom?" She suggested.

I nodded and told her I would pour out the dirty water and put the pails back into the kitchen. She smiled gratefully and wiped her hands on her apron and rolled down her sleeves.

I stood up slowly, rubbing my already sore back, and stretched my knees as to get feeling back into them. I picked the pails up and began carefully moving towards the back door of the kitchen where I needed to dump them. The water sloshed around in the pails as I pushed open the door to the kitchen with my back.

Somehow, I managed to open it and maneuver my way through to the back door. The pails were emptied and stacked inside of each other with the brushes thrown carelessly inside of them.

I trudged out the door to the staircase and began to walk up the steps towards the bunkroom. I peeked around the corner to the bunkroom and observed no Miss Molly, so I looked across the hall to the washroom. She was cleaning up in there. Bless her soul.

"Killian, you can just make the beds and sweep up a bit in the bunkroom since I have already started in here. The more people I can spare from dealing with this horror," she motioned to the area around her, "The better."

I thanked her and moved into the bunkroom. I began picking up some articles of stray clothing that were on the floor and hanging them on the corners of the bunks. They were easily placed regarding who they belonged to.

I straightened several of the mattresses that had gone askew on the beds as well, and closed a few of the drawers that were left hanging open.

Dust clouds began to form as I swept the floor which soon had me in a sneezing fit. I missed the several pairs of footsteps clambering up the staircase.

Soon there was small gathering of my newsies that were shouting a chorus of, "Bless you"s with each sneeze I let out.

At last, I stopped sneezing, and the crowd of boys cheered and clapped their hands.

I heard one of them yell, "Sixteen in a row!"

"Ya alright, Strut?" The Prof asked me, sitting down on the bunk closest to me.

"Yeah, Prof. I'm good." I laughed.

"Why are you, of all people, cleanin' up 'round here?" He asked.

"Didn't have anythin' ta do, so I jus' came back here ta help out Miss Molly. We weren't expectin' ya back dis early." I swiped at my forehead again.

"Who'd eva know Strut's li'l Miss Homemaker?" Squints asked as he hung off of the metal rod of the bunk bed beside me.

"I swear some of ya forget I'm a girl sometimes…" I trailed off. "I can still outsell you any day though. And don't you forget it." I shoved him on the shoulder and continued sweeping. "Get outta the way. Go find somethin' else ta do until dinna tonight. Go terrorize someone else for da aftanoon."

They laughed lightheartedly and went their own ways, taking everyone with them readily, and I went back to cleaning with Miss Molly.

I finished sweeping and put the broom back in its place before beginning to fold some of the sheets back over the beds and cleaning up in general. I straightened up the pillows and tucked in some of the sheets on the beds. I moved to the divider and began to clean up all of our stuff as well.

I folded and refolded the extra shirt, skirt, and trousers that I had and put them all in a neat pile with my now dry long johns beside them. Beginning to look for my picture of my mother, I was jolted when I remembered it in the pocket inside of my bowler cap.

That was residing at the bottom of the river.

Or on its way to the ocean.

My mother.

The only picture of her that I had.

Gone.

My shoulders drooped dejectedly and I rubbed the back of my neck. All I had left of her was my memory.

She had died by fire and now by water. I swallowed heavily and sighed. Cig had always warned me to be careful with the picture, putting it in my cap; I had never even tried to listen, repeatedly assuring him that I wouldn't lose my cap.

Funny story that one was.

I made up the two other beds and looked over the room again. I felt I had done a well enough job. At least with the promise of the boys storming in again in a few hours time to mess it all up again, and then it would be back to the way it was.

I walked towards the washroom to find Miss Molly finishing up as well.

"Anything else I can do, Miss Molly?" I asked, slicking my bangs out of my face and to the top of my head.

"I'm afraid not, Killian. We've done about as much cleaning as we can for today. You can come help me in the kitchen if you'd like though." She smiled and poured the water from her pail into a bathtub that was connected to a pipe system.

"Sure, I'd like that." I said as I backed out and began walking downstairs. I greeted a few of the boys with more housewife jeers coming from their end and walked into the kitchen before pumping some water and washing my hands.

Miss Molly followed suit shortly after and then sat me down at the table in the center of the room with a cutting board and the task of chopping carrots and potatoes for her widely-popular beef stew she was making. She began working on making several loaves of bread as I got to chopping.

Several minutes passed in amiable silence when Bull swung open the kitchen door.

"Hey, Strut?"

"Hey Bull, back from da Battery already. What's da news?"

"Knight said dat Brooklyn's fine ta go."

"Alright. Catch and Quirk back yet?"

He nodded. "Send 'em in, will ya?" He nodded again and seconds later my two right-hand girls came through the door.

"Finished sellin', I assume?" I asked as they took up chairs across from me.

"Yeah, only jus'." Quirk said, picking up a part of the carrot I had just chopped and eating it.

"Catch, ya feel like takin' a message ta the border?" I asked.

"Which border?" She asked skeptically.

"Ours and Brooklyn's. Jus' need someone ta pass word along ta Spot that they can come tamorrow night." Catch nodded.

"Yeah, that's fine. Dinner won't be ready for what, another hour, hour and a half, so yeah. I'll go. What time does it start tomorrow night?"

"Right at sunset, but I think dat's when they'se lightin' the fire. It'd be safe to say seven thirty. Jus' pass the message ta one of the guys from Brooklyn right on the border and they'll take it ta Spot. Ya got your blade?"

She nodded and stood up from the table. "I'll be about an hour. Quirk! Time me!" She laughed and was on her way out.

Quirk twirled her cane around in circles and we talked a bit as I finished cutting up the vegetables. Miss Molly expressed her gratitude and Quirk and I went out into the living room to sit with some of the boys. Teddy somehow ended up in my lap messing with my hair and begging for me to take it out of its long braid so he could "twist it like it is now" again.

I obliged and tried not to wince as he roughly pulled at my hair, but figured out how to braid in the hour that Quirk, as promised, was gone. There was a steady stream of boys that came in through the front door, all greeting each other in one way or another and asking what was for dinner. They were all ecstatic to hear it was bread and stew.

Half an hour later, the big table in the kitchen was filled with boys after I distributed the food. The younger boys got first helpings, as was custom, and the older boys divvied up the rest equally. I took what was left over of the stew, but grinned when Miss Molly revealed an entire half loaf of bread for me to make up for the lack of stew I had received.

As dinner was beginning to wind down, I looked to Cig with a nod to tell him I was going to tell everyone about the bonfire.

I pushed my chair back and stood up at the table. "Quiet down, boys." I said with authority as their voices came to a stop.

"Alright, thank ya. So some a' you might'a heard 'bout this already, but some a' you prob'ly haven't. The Battery boys are hostin' a bonfire tamorrow night and basically all the newsies are invited. Jackie's boys, Spot's boys, Knight's boys... All of 'em are goin'. So it's up ta you all if ya wanna go. You'se younga boys have ta stay here with Miss Molly, but I heard her tell me she's gonna make a cake tomorra night, and you boys would get to have it fresh." I smiled at the younger boys as their smiles and eyes grew wide with excitement.

"So, whaddya boys say?" I asked with a smile as Squints let out a whoop from the opposite end of the table and a round of excited applause overtook the table. I laughed at them all and then continued.

"Alright, we're plannin' on gettin' there 'round seven thirty tomorra, so be here early and be ready. Knight said they'll have food from some vendas nearby that we can all get dinna from. Now, before all you scramble away, younger kids, go on up to da bunkroom and start windin' down. I'll be up in a few minutes. Everyone else stay down 'ere." The younger boys began to shuffle off with satisfied bellies and already drooping eyes, and as soon as the last boy was out of the kitchen I grew serious.

"Alright, guys." I took in a deep breath. "As with anything, if we're going to do somethin' fun, there has to be some rules. If any one of you tries to bring a girl back to this lodging house, you will be out of a bed. If any of you come back so piss drunk you can't walk up the steps on your own, you will be out of a bed. And if ANY of you, even so much as TRY to start something with someone that puts this borough's safety at risk, you'll be out of the bed and out of my borough. Is that understood?" A group nod was made.

"And if I see any of you harassing or disrespwcting a girl, regardless if she's a prostitute or from another borough or whatever social class she's from, you'll have me to deal with." I let that sink in as I looked around the room.

"Keep ya dick in ya pants, the booze outta ya mouth, and ya fists in ya pockets. Anyone else got anythin' ta add? Cig? Catch? Quirk? Prof?" I sat down.

The Prof coughed to clear his throat and then spoke up. "Look, lads. If ya put a bun in the oven, don't come runnin' ta us fa help."

"Yeah. An' we fuckin' mean it." Quirk added.

"Any questions?" I asked.

"Harlem gonna be dere?" I heard Tubs ask.

I swallowed. "Only one way ta find out."

"Alright, you guys can go. Stack ya dishes in the sink on ya way out."

I rubbed my hands over my face rather roughly and leaned back in my chair as the cabinet moved towards me.

"Alright, who's gotta cigarette?" I asked with a sigh. Cig, no surprise there, pulled one from his ear and another from his shirt porket and handed them both to me. I stuck one into my pocket in the same way and leaned towards him as he lit a match and then handed an extra to me for my second cigarette. I took a long drag and puffed out the smoke.

"I hope no one screws anythin' up." I said.

Cig lit a smoke for himself.

We sat in silence for several minutes and then I handed the very end of my cigarette to the Prof, who didn't smoke much but bummed all our butts off us, before pushing away from the table again.

"I'm goin' ta say goodnight ta the kids an' then I'll be up on the roof."

I walked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby area to see a large game of poker going on already and a few boys just sitting around and relaxing. I made my way upstairs and to the bunkroom to see most of the boys in bed already.

"Ready to go to sleep, boys?" I asked as I walked around the corner.

A few muffled noises of agreement responded as I helped four of the boys onto their top bunks. I went around to each of the boys, leaning in close to each of them and whispering the same simple poem.

"I love you every morning,

I love you every night.

I love you when it's warm outside,

And even when it bites.

I love you with your bruises,

And I'll kiss you when you fall.

I love each and every part of you,

For all, for all, for all."

I ended it with a soft kiss on the forehead and a smile, repeating the action eight times over, even when some of them were asleep.

I smiled again and walked out of the bunkroom to the staircase at the end of the hall leading to the rooftop.

My boots clicked on the roof as I walked to my familiar spot against the chimney. I lit my second cigarette and tossed the burnt out match to the side as I slowly breathed in the smoke. It wasn't often that I smoked, but sometimes it just felt like the only thing I could do.

I wasn't myself today at all. Starting with the whole storming off at the distribution center and ending with the whole housework thing. Something had changed in me, and I wasn't entirely sure what. I was hoping it was just a stage and my hormones were all screwed up either way. Spot had actually been right, I am about to start in on the rag. How he knew that, or if it was just a lucky guess, was beyond me.

I sniggered to myself as I took another long drag of smoke and flicked off the ash at the end. I saw a small flame, like one from a match, flare up across the street and illuminate an unrecognizable face, presumably to light a cigarette, and then it burnt out, leaving the person in the dark again to observe the sky.

I let out a deep breath and a yawn as I hummed a few lines of "Loch Lomond" once again and pushed off of the chimney to stand. I stubbed the butt of my cigarette onto the brick and walked back to the doorway to go back inside.

And then that catcall sounded again. The same one as the last time I was up here. Guess it was the same person.

I brushed it off and headed back inside, going straight to the washroom to clean up before going to bed early. It was probably only nine or ten at the latest, but I had an entire night's rest I missed last night to make up for.

I'm fairly certain I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, and I was up again in what had only seemed like seconds.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, hellllllllllllllllo there it's been a while hasn't it?

Hope you guys still deem this as worthy of a read, haha.

I recently (like, two minutes ago) searched the actual dates that I have listed, and it turns out that the fifteenth of May in 1899 was actually a Monday and not a Friday -.-

So that's bothering me a smidge, but I don't think it's really that important. I'm trying to keep things as historically accurate as possible, but I'm not going to let dates screw with me.

But yeah, hope you guys are all doing well annnnnnnnd I'll see you soon *hopefully*.

I only have two *ish* months left of school, so hopefully I'll be able to begin posting more regularly.

_Jerica, you say that every time._

Okay guys, I'm off to do some homework, but stay cool and don't do drugs.

*I hate myself*

Okay, BYE.

-Jerica


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Saturday, May 16, 1899**

**Queens/Battery Park, New York **

Before I really recognized it, I was dressed and clutching a stack of papers under my arm while shouting out the headlines as I walked. My brain had been running on autopilot the entire day. I really just wanted to get through the rest of my papers and head back to the lodging house for a nap before the bonfire.

It took me two additional hours to sell the rest of my papers, and after getting a very quick bite to eat from a street vendor, I began to thread my way through the crowded street. Walking through a street in the middle of Queens right after lunch was like walking through a World's Fair. That's just how many dialects you could pick up on. And in reality, Queens wasn't nearly as much of a melting pot as Manhattan.

But that didn't really matter. I had my mind set on getting back to the lodging house and jumping into bed as soon as I could, so that's what I did.

And when I woke again, this time it was from Quirk repeatedly smashing me over the head with a pillow and Catch loudly yelling in my ear.

"STRUUUUT! GET UP!" She shook the mattress near my head, pulled my pillow from me, and ripped the covers off my body. I cracked my eyes opened to see her grinning at me at eye level. Quirk smacked me again with the pillow for good measure. I kicked her on the leg in retailiation.

"What time's'it?" I asked, rolling onto my back and pushing myself up.

"It's around five, I think." Catch replied. "Cig has all the guys downstairs since they already cleaned up after work. I'm surprised you didn't hear them earlier." She laughed.

"Yeah, dey was makin' all kinds'a racket when we'se got back. Heavy sleeper, youse are." Quirk added.

"So are you guys gonna wash off an' stuff?" I ran a few fingers through my hair. "I think I can afford it."

"I don't think I really want to get my entire body wet, but yes, I'll probably at least clean up."

Quirk agreed with Catch and the three of us set up camp in the washroom after agreeing to all wear nicer clothes for tonight. After all, it was the first bonfire of the season.

And even though we had to work all day and be dirty and look out for ourselves, that didn't mean we couldn't look nice every once and awhile. I'd be harassed about it forever if I ever admitted it to one of the guys, but sometimes it was nice to give into the pleasures I used to know.

We all took turns cleaning off and arranging each other's hair and doing girly things we never really got to do. Catch styled Quirk's long hair into a complicated bun once it had time to dry before doing something similar to her own. I left mine down for it to dry, but pulled the top part of it back into a braid.

Catch momentarily retreated to the bunkroom to retrieve her precious tube of red rouge. She only used it on special occasions, and I guess she thought this was one.

She applied it carefully to Quirk and my lips and cheeks before putting it on her own and then we all changed into our fresh clothes.

Catch decided to wear a deep burgundy dress shirt and khaki skirt, Quirk stole my blue checked shirt and used her own khaki skirt as well, and I wore a plain white button up shirt and took Quirk's navy blue skirt to wear.

We looked absolutely nothing like ourselves after just forty-five minutes of primping. We probably resembled what our boys' girlfriends would look like, not the ones they got the privelege of listening to.

As we couldn't think of anything else that we needed to do to get ready, we walked back into the bunkroom and began lacing up our boots.

"Are you'se bringin' ya caps or leavin' 'em?" Quirk asked. "I don't think mine'll fit ova m'bun."

"I'm not gonna bring mine." I responded, and Catch agreed.

"Alright, you guys good den?" I asked.

They nodded and we moved back out of the bunkroom and descended the staircase.

"You boys ready?" I shouted when I got to the bottom of the stairs.

I was met with excited and stunned faces alike.

Cig sauntered up beside me. "Who knew there was a girl hidin' under all dat dirt?" He asked light-heartedly with a kiss on the top of my head. "You look real pretty, Flor."

I shoved him away and continued. "I hope you all remember the rules I set last night." I looked around at my boys. "Alright, get goin' then. You all know ya way to the Battery."

I watched as the boys filed out of the doorway and then I checked in the kitchen for Miss Molly. She already had the little boys crowded around the big table, watching eagerly as she prepared the ingredients for the several cakes they would be making.

"Yes, Florence?" She asked, looking up. A few of the boys giggled at my full name.

"I just wanted to let you know we're headed out now. I'll take care of check-in when we get back tonight." I directed my attention to the little boys around the table. "You all be on your best behavior tonight. I'll be back to see you in the morning. See you in a bit, everyone."

It was about 5:50 by the time I left, and we were already on schedule for being early. With that being said, the boys got distracted by a leaf blowing in the wind and women they could see in their windows from the street.

However, we somehow managed to get to the Battery on time and then the party began. What exactly we were celebrating, I couldn't even tell you, but I don't think that was really the point.

They had somehow managed to secure a rather large chunk of private park, how they managed to get it is beyond me, with enough room for three or four times the amount of people there.

I don't think any of us were particularly upset that we weren't filling up the entire expanse of the area, though. We had the newsies and the workers... If you know what I mean.

My group of newsies all regrouped and walked into the park in a big mass, and I had to admit, I would have paid to see what we looked like coming towards everyone else.

The cabinet and I were closest to the front with our buff and burly boys behind us. I could only imagine the thoughts going through some of the boys' heads who had never met me before but had heard about me. Hell of a way to meet a borough leader.

Regardless, I held my head with an air of dignity and control as I walked to where I saw the other leaders congregating. Separating from the rest of the group, I grabbed Cig by the collar and dragged him along with me to greet "our hosts."

"Hey, boys." I said, mozying up to them.

A few head-nods were shot my way.

"So you're da one Pilot put in charge, huh?" A guy with sandy blonde hair and a red kerchief tied around his neck asked.

I crossed my arms. "I was wondering when I'd get to meet you." I held out my hand after spitting in it. "Long overdue, if I can say so myself. Strut Conner."

He spit in his hand as well and we shook. "Jack Kelly." He smiled. "M' boys said I'd like ya name. Mush specifical'y said it fits ya."

"So I've been told. Good ta finally meet ya, Jack. Where'd da ol' Battery boy go?" I craned my neck.

"Must'a skittered off somewhere. I'll tell 'im you guys is here if I see 'im."

Cig shook hands with Jack and nodded his head to a few of the boys who were standing with him. I didn't recognize any of them.

I took it upon myself to look them in the eye, spit in my hand and stick it out for them to shake.

"I'm Strut. Leader of Queens. I don't think I've met ya before."

The boys looked me from toe to head and then spit in his own hand to shake mine. "Pictured the leader of Queens a bit differently, if ya don't mind me sayin'." He said. "I'm Trains, this is Pots." He motioned to the boy behind him. "We're from Uptown."

"Good ta meet ya."

"The same."

I stood awkwardly for several seconds and then decided it was time to go and find Catch and Quirk again. No matter how leader-like I had to act, I still got uncomfortable and wanted to be around the people that I knew.

"Alright, well I'll see ya guys around." I waved to them and heard them whispering as I walked off, rubbing the spot behind my ear, and found Catch and Quirk lounging with a few of the other Manhattan boys. I couldn't tell if it was a bad thing that I didn't know all of the boys there or not, because there were still a handful that I didn't really knew by name. Sure, I recognized them, but nothing really past that.

"AY! STRUT!" Quirk shouted and waved me over. Subtle.

I smiled brightly at her and waved, trying to ignore the eyes that always managed to make their way to me. I loved having attention on me, but at the same time, I hated it. I was a walking paradox. My English tutor would have been proud to hear me use that one.

"Hey, guys, how's it hangin'?" I asked, taking a seat on the ground beside the girls.

"So dis is Strut?" The boy across from me asked, pointing with his cap towards me and sitting upright from his previous position.

Catch nodded. "The one and only."

"Why does everyone keep askin' that?" I pointed the question to the boys.

Mush was the one to answer. "They don't expect ya to look the way ya do. There've been otha girl newsies in da past, and you're definitely the first ta look like... well... you."

I gave him a questioning look. "And what does that mean exactly?" I crossed my arms.

The unidentified boy spoke up. "Well... ya look like ya know how to clean up well, for one. An' you look kinda... I dunno... motherly? Like ya know how ta take care 'a kids and at da same time know how ta command an army. An' Spot's right. Ya name does fit ya. Ya walk with an air to ya. Like ya lofty. Like ya know you're betta den da rest, but don't like ta show it. It's unique, but all da same."

All eyes remained on the boy. I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to comprehend what all he was saying, or trying to say. A small smile cracked on my lips. "So you're sayin' I'm like the rest, but not." It was a statement, not a question.

He smiled in return and leaned back on his elbows again. "That sums it up real nice."

"Can't decide if I should be pleased or offended." I said again.

"Believe me," Blink started. "When Race compiles that much into a single statement, it's either a really really good thing, or a really really bad thing."

"I'll leave it up for interpretation." The boy they were calling Race responded haughtily.

"So you're gonna be one of those guys that lets someone else introduce you indirectly, aren't ya?"

"Yeah." He responded with a smirk.

I sighed, trying to think of something intellectual to say back to him to no avail.

" I think we're gonna get along well, Queenie." He lit the cigar he had notched behind his ear and took several puffs from it.

"Whatever you say, Smokestack." I chuckled. When I looked to where Catch was sitting with Mush, I was instead met with open air. I swiveled my head in the opposite direction; Quirk and Blink were nowhere to be found either.

"How long have we been sitting here?" I asked.

Race shrugged. "Guess the others had more important business to tend to, if ya pickin' up what I'm puttin' out." He smiled. "Want a drag?" He held out the stub of his cigar to me.

"No, that's alright. I only smoke when I got a reason... if that makes any sense."

"It's a bad habit, don't start up on it. Ya pockets'll be dry before you can say 'The Sun'."

"As you take another drag of your cigar." I smiled. I heard whistling from behind us and loud whooping accompanying it.

"Think they'se 'bout to light da fire." Race pointed out, standing up and brushing himself off before offering to help me. I took his outstretched hand and he helped pull me up. I caught a glimpse of Mush and Catch sitting on a log built for two right by where they were starting the fire. They were sitting much too close for anything but something intimate. Mush's hand was resting soundly on Quirk's crossed knee. It looked completely natural.

Questioning would ensue later for sure.

"You're really not gonna technically introduce yourself to me, are ya?" I asked as we approached the smoking bonfire they had set up. (It really exceeded my expectations, I was thinking we'd get here for a 'bonfire' that was just in an old trashcan, but boy was I wrong.)

"Don't think so, Queenie. I know who you are. You know who I am, kinda. I think we'se on the same page for da most part." He knocked me lightly on the shoulder.

And that was that. We were friends.

We made our way to the fire asking each other questions as we went.

"So how'd you land bein' leada?" He asked.

"Dunno. Someone must'a liked what they saw and thought I'd fit it, so now I'm here. People just listen, I guess." I shrugged. "What's your position in this whole thing?"

"Casual seller. I like gamblin' more than I like newspapers, so I head to Sheepshead when I can." He explained.

"Fair enough."

He laughed. We walked behind Mush and Catch and Race swatted Mush in the back of the head.

"D'you two know each other?" I asked.

Mush shoved Race away from him as we walked away.

"Y'know, for bein' a leada you really don't know what's goin' on." Race pointed out.

"I've only been leader a few months! We've never had to deal with other boroughs, really. All our business has been within Queens for the past five months. Cig wouldn't let me outta the borough beforehand."

Race mulled it over for a few seconds and then agreed. "I guess no one really did know any of ya guys besides the ones that were there with the guy before ya. What was his name? Cadet, right? I bet mosta them left by now though."

"You're talking like you're twenty-five, Race. How old are ya?" I asked laughing.

"Eighteen." He laughed. "How old are you, twelve?"

"Seventeen, thank you very much." I said haughtily.

"Well, excuse me, Queenie." He backed off.

"That's not my name, Race."

"I know, I know, it's St-"

"STRUUUUT CONNER." Someone finished for him.

"Jesus Christ, it's Spot."

"HEEEEEEEY RAAAAAACE." Spot interrupted (again) and slapped Race on the back.

"And he's drunk." Race finished.

* * *

><p>Hey guys omg<p>

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I've been working on this chapter for a while now, but finally finished it up in my calculus class today. Sorry it's mad short compared to the other chapters that are basically 4-5,000 words a chapter but I'm hoping to finally be able to begin posting more regularly since school is out in about two weeks time. Needless to say, I'm not abandoning this fic in the slightest, it's just taking a backburner to everything else that I've been doing.

If you spot any continuity issues, please let me know! I lost the document that had all my characters and important events/dialogue hints in it, so if I used the wrong name for someone, please dear god comment and tell me.

Okay so I'm gonna head out now, thanks for sticking with me! I'm going to write some more tonight after finishing up my work, so this may be updated sooner rather than later.

Lots of love,

Jerica


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Saturday, May 16, 1899**

**Battery Park, New York**

"Hiiiiiii Sttruut!" Spot slurred and grabbed my face, planting a giant kiss on my cheek.

I shoved him away and wiped my cheek. "God, Spot."

"I missed ya today! Why didn't ya come see me?" Spot whined.

I turned to Race. "I was under the impression he could hold his liquor better than this."

"He normally can." Race sympathized.

"Guys... I don' feel too hot." Spot swayed with his arm around my shoulder.

"Spot Conlon I swear ta God if you puke your guts out all ova-"

And he did.

He hunched over at the waist, still clutching one of my shoulders and moaned.

I looked down at the front of my shirt and sighed. "Let's get 'im ova ta where the others are. Let 'im lay down. And I need ta find a new shirt."

"C'mon, Spot. Let's go." Race slung Spot's other arm over his shoulder and we moved him to a relatively clear space by the fire, laying him on his side in case he had to throw up again. Which he did.

"Can you find Cig?" I asked Race who immediately looked at my shirt and obliged.

I sat down where I was standing beside Spot and began to unbutton the top of my shirt, carefully avoiding the vomit that was coating the lower portion of it. I patiently waited for Cig, watched Spot throw up once more, and then my savior appeared.

"Kills?" I heard Cig's voice before I saw his face.

"Yeah, I'm here." I responded. He walked around in front of me and gagged when he saw my shirt.

"What happened?"

"Spot puked all over me." I motioned to him on the ground. "I need another shirt."

"Here, jus' take mine. I got one under it." He unbuttoned his and carefully helped me out of mine. "I don't think Miss Molly'll be able ta get da stains outta it." Cig held my shirt at arms length and grimaced.

"That's fine. I'll make do. Jus' burn it or somethin'. Smells like the sewer already." I pulled Cig's shirt on and buttoned it up. The green of his shirt didn't really match with my navy skirt, but it didn't have puke on it, so I wasn't about to complain.

"Thanks again, Cig. Dunno what I'd do without ya." I gave him a big hug, but seconds after, he pushed me away. "What?"

"You smell disgustin'."

"Comes with the territory." I laughed.

"Aren't ya gonna do somethin' with Conlon?" Cig asked, motioning towards the passed out boy.

"Like what? Kiss 'im? Tuck 'im in? He knows his way back ta Brooklyn. He'll be fine." I shrugged. "Hopefully."

Cig motioned for me to follow him, so I did. He led me over to a covered tin bucket filled with large bottles of lukewarm beer. No two were the same.

I grabbed one at random and turned to Cig who grabbed two, dirty, glasses that were nearby and filled them. We clinked our glasses together and took a large gulp. These would have to last us through the night.

The hour tolled on the clock tower just across the street as Cig lit a cigarette and gave me the first drag. He took the rest for himself. He knew how much I really hated smoking, but could tell how much I could use it. I hated the idea of becoming so attached to something you needed it to live. I'd seen it happen with too many things to too many people. Cig was the prime example.

"I'm worried 'bout the boys." I confessed. "D'you think they'll pull anythin'?"

Cig shook his head and reassured me. "I think dey realize dey shouldn't, but I dunno if it'll stop 'em or not. I think dey're afraid 'a ya to be honest. You laid it out for 'em real nice, and dey know ya don't take bullshit well." He let out a puff of smoke.

"If Harlem shows up, there's no stoppin' some of 'em." I took another drink of my beer and grimaced.

"Why does it always gots ta be Harlem?" Cig pondered.

"They're jus' so tiny, and don't have much powa. They have more kids than us and Manhattan combined, with a quarter of the land of ourselves. I can't blame 'em." I poured the rest of my beer out behind me. Didn't need it and didn't want it.

"I heard we have a new girl here, what's her name, Strut?" I heard a rowdy, yet familiar, voice ask loudly.

"How the hell aren't ya dead by now, Grant?" I asked, turning around and embracing my old family friend. He was one of the first people my family met when we were getting on the ship to come to America. At the time, he was only sixteen and was leaving his family and all his connections behind on the premise of coming to a new world to explore. He was the adventurous type. We always welcomed him in our home, before and after we got our standing, and was a lot like an adopted brother to me. My father never let us forget how much he loved Grant more than us.

He kissed me on the forehead. "I stopped by the Lodging House to see you earlier, but Molls said you'd gone already."

"Molls, is it now?" I teased him. "She's a bit young for you, isn't she?"

"She's almost twenty six! And I'm twenty nine! That's better than a twenty year gap like some of the relationships I know you've been exposed to."

"I don't wanna hear it right now Grant." I warned him.

Cig nudged me on the arm and Grant left us as quickly as he had come. "Probably off ta see Molly." Cig said lightheartedly.

I looked around when he left. Race was off in the corner with a few other boys who looked familiar but I didn't know. Probably more of his Manhattan cohorts, if I had to guess. There were newsies all over the park. Some were drinking, some weren't. Others were laughing, and even more were looking on at something I couldn't make out.

But there was only one thing that could cause a group of boys as close as the newsies to lose their focus on all the free alcohol and wasn't a naked girl: unwelcome guests.

I smacked Cig's forearm. "Harlem's here and I'm in a skirt."

"They'll definitely think twice 'bout crossing ya before they-" Cig cut himself off. "I'm not gonna finish that."

"For once, I don't want ya to."

I crossed my arms and saw the Prof approaching me from a group of guys looking presumably in Harlem's direction.

I took a deep breath as he reached me. "Jimmy's here."

"Yeah, Prof. I figured. Sometimes I'se not as dumb as I look." He rolled his eyes at my attitude. "Are you gonna stand beside me or what?" I snapped.

"I haven' seen Quirk 'er Catch 'round." He stated.

"Quirk's prob'ly sellin' her soul and Catch is out feedin' the homeless." I said sarcastically, trying to prevent my worry from boiling to the surface. If I showed panic, so would my boys. "Worry about 'em after we see what Harlem wants."

"Why'd da party stop?" Jimmy shouted as he finally emerged. He was shorter than what you could imagine, standing at about my height. He rested safely around the five foot eight level and was lankier than what you could imagine too. His limbs were coated in lean muscle. He had light curly hair and ever-present stubble around his jaw.

Really, he was quite attractive. There was nothing unpleasing about his appearance, but his demeanor ruined every good thought you could have about him. I could never understand how Quirk's brothers could stand to be newsies under him. But Quirk's given the impression that she and her brothers weren't really given the same values that she has. If you could call them values.

Jimmy had been wandering in and out of groups of newsies, making a bit of a ruckus. No one wanted Harlem to be here, but everyone was too scared to tell them to leave. The only ones with the authority to do that were the Battery boys, and that definitely wouldn't be happening.

I heard a whistle off to the side and saw Race pointing at me. The boy he was standing with nodded once and crossed over to me with a group of others behind him.

"Jack Kelly. You prob'ly know dat already. 'Hattan backs you." He stood by my side and somehow knew the problems that had been going on with Harlem and Queens for years now.

The Prof whispered in my ear from behind me. "That sure as hell couldn't have been easier."

"Where's Cowboy?" I heard Jimmy shout with a laugh that was anything but friendly to me. He took a long drink of beer and scanned the crowd over the top of his glass before pointing directly to Jack.

And then he made his way towards us with a grin on his face.

"COWBOY!" He greeted Jack. Everyone began turning back to their own business as if they knew Jack could handle whatever Jimmy had coming for him.

Jimmy tossed the glass he had been holding behind all of us, spilling beer on my- Cig's shirt in the process.

"Didn't mean ta get ya lady all wet, Jack." He turned towards me. "My name's Ji-"

"I know who you are Jimmy. Cadet let me know all about you."

His arm dropped from around Jack.

"So you're da girl I've been hearin' about? Florence." He smirked. "Didn't think I'd hafta bury a skirt ta get to Queens, but ya gotta do whatcha gotta do."

"You won't have to bury a skirt, and you can trust me on that one. I might have to bury yours, but it's all in fair game, am I right, Jimmy? Dunno if Harlem's really worth it. Whaddya got now? A square mile?"

"And more den triple da newsies you gots." He smirked again.

"I don't think I need to worry, Jimmy. Go have a drink. Maybe we'll all be lucky enough to find out it's been poisoned."

His smirk dropped. "Not da best thing ya could say, Sweetheart. Not near done wit you yet."

"Oh Jimmy, once you're done with me, you'll be done with yourself too. Don't get ahead of yourself. Screw all the girls ya can before ya get ya hands on me." I stepped up to him. "I'll be your last."

"Countin' down the days." He smirked again and looked very obviously at my chest. "Gentlemen!" He shouted into my face and then backed away, still keeping his eye contact with me. "We're outta here. Don't wanna spoil the view of my present before I get at it." He sneered at the group of people around me and turned around. He came across one of the several tables that were scattered throughout the park that held the alcohol and knocked all the bottles on the top off the side.

I took a deep breath, straightened my skirt, wiped my eyes, and spoke once I saw Jimmy safely exit. "Well. That went better than I expected."

"You practic'ly sold yaself ta him." Jack spat. "Ya invited him ta have sex wit' ya!"

"Well at least we all know what he's after now. We can prepare for it now, can't we?" I cleared my throat. "He's not as scary as Cadet put him up to be. He'll be easy to take." I shrugged and pushed past him towards the overturned tablel. I needed a drink after dealing with that one.

"Ya ain't undefeatable, Strut." Jack pointed out just loud enough for everyone to hear.

I stopped and turned around, a small smile playing on my lips. "I am until I'm defeated, aren't I?"

* * *

><p>AN: Wheeeeeeeeeeee I'm back again

School's been out for about a month now and I've just finished up this chapter as you can tell. Sorry it's so short (for the hundredth time) but I had to decide where to cut it.

Alright so that's all I have to say really.

And as I say every single time I update, I'm working on the next chapter as we speak and already have a head start to it. I just have to figure out what the heck I'm doing to carry over to the next part of my plot. After all we do have an entire two months before the strike is supposed to start ;)

I'm screwing with you I have no idea what's going to happen... well... I do actually... I just don't know how to get there.

Is there even a plot in this thing

I can't tell you

Alright deuces,

Jerica


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